


It's Not Porn, It's Art...

by pherryt



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Artist!Steve, Bad guys, Candles, Cockwarming, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Home, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstanding, More angst, Morning Sex, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Suicidal Thoughts, Switching, Voyeurism, crying clint, deaf!Clint, hurt!Clint, light D/s elements, low self worth, tub sharing, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-24 03:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: If anyone had ever told Clint that he’d be here, now, at the mercy of Steve Rogers, CaptainfuckingAmerica – with a lot of emphasis on that fucking part – he’d have laughed in their faces and been sure Tony was trying to pull a fast one on him.The fact that Bucky was there too, in on it with Steve, had Clint scratching his head and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or for someone to snatch a building out from under him. Or pull the VR device from his head orsomething.Because this, right now, couldn’t be happening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Square Filled for my Bucky Barnes Bingo: Kink - Please, Let me come
> 
> The title will make (more) sense with the second chapter
> 
> More tags to be added. I plan on making a short series of chapters that are all interconnected but hopefully can also be read individually if wanted. 
> 
> I have a series of 'kink' squares for the BBB that I'm going to try to use, but there are 5 and I'm not sure if I can manage 2 of them. So I'm tentatively thinking of this as a 3-5 chapter fic.
> 
> *EDIT* so I want to give a shout out to a fic that I absolutely love and have read a million times and you all should go and read it too. the title of THIS fic was an (accidental) nod to this other fic (which I realized only after the fact). they're two completely different animals, but I'm *sure* you will love it - so check out [What do you mean we left Clint on Mars? ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044687/chapters/11598739) by sara_holmes

If anyone had ever told Clint that he’d be here, now, at the mercy of Steve Rogers, Captain _fucking_ America – with a lot of emphasis on that _fucking_ part – he’d have laughed in their faces and been sure Tony was trying to pull a fast one on him.

The fact that Bucky was there too, in on it with Steve, had Clint scratching his head and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or for someone to snatch a building out from under him. Or pull the VR device from his head or _something._

Because this, right now, couldn’t be happening.

That the rest of the team saw him as a bit of a simpleton was nothing new, Clint had gotten used to that. Certainly he wasn’t anywhere in their league. He didn’t have super strength. He wasn’t a god. He wasn’t a billionaire with all the fancy toys (he just benefited from knowing one) or a genius either.

Even Nat was better than him and Clint had always suspected she had a bit of super strength or _something_ to help her already formidable as fuck skills along.

He was just a normal guy with one schtick – literally – who trained like a motherfucker to be as good as he was and there were days he felt it.

That he was currently sandwiched between _two_ super soldiers, hard and whimpering… Clint wasn’t sure he hadn’t gone crazy. There wasn’t any possible reason for Steve _or _Bucky to be here with him, to _want _to be here with him, taking him apart liked they’d been given a goddamned road map.

But if he _had _finally gone ‘round the bend, then god fucking damn, what a way to go.

Writhing on top of Bucky - his arms braced on the bed on either side of Bucky’s head, their sweat soaked skin sliding tantalizingly together - Clint kissed Bucky harshly, desperately, Bucky’s tongue caressing his more gently than he would have thought while Steve’s lips trailed a hot brand along Clint’s throat - light, teasing nips, his fingers roaming over Clint’s back.

Bucky pulled Clint down into contact with his cock, their lengths rubbing almost too roughly, just the right side of too rough. That was okay, Clint was used to that, preferred it. It was when people were gentle that he felt lost, out of his depth.

Clint arched, their mouths separating under Bucky’s assault, as another metal finger joined the first, thick and prodding and slightly cold, but warming up quickly inside Clint.

“Please,” Clint gasped out, rocking back into Bucky’s hand, trying to take his fingers deeper. Steve and Bucky been at this awhile, teasing Clint, turning his body into a livewire. He was sure he was going to spontaneously combust.

Or come. Whichever came – _ha!_ – first.

“Mmm… Buck…” Steve eased back, taking his warmth away and Clint whimpered, immediately missing him. “Fuck, look at his arms.” Steve’s hands shifted, stroking down Clint’s shoulders and biceps. Clint might have, maybe, preened a little. He was fucking proud of his arms.

“Oh, I’m lookin’, Stevie,” Bucky said with the Brooklynn drawl that had returned to him, had become thicker and more natural the more he’d recovered of himself. It sent a tremble through Clint’s body and he clenched around Bucky’s fingers. “He’s a fuckin’ work of art.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Should we hang him in a museum?”

“You mean share him?” Bucky asked, spreading Clint’s ass with one hand and thrusting deeper.

Clint’s hips twitched and he shook, tucking his head into Bucky’s neck, breathing in the smell of him, sweaty and metallic and some fancy ass shampoo Clint didn’t know the name of. He took in Bucky’s scent, trying to ease himself down from the precipice. He wasn’t ready – _they _weren’t ready. Bucky and Steve had both come once already, while Clint watched, Bucky riding Steve hard, cock bouncing across Steve’s stomach.

It’d had been so fucking beautiful, but it had been torturous too, Clint not allowed to come unless it was on their cocks.

And Clint hadn’t come yet.

“Nah,” Bucky said, after a brief pause. “Nobody gets him but us. Nobody sees him, not like we do. They wouldn’t appreciate him.”

“You’re right, Buck,” Steve said, covering Clint’s sweaty body once more, his cock nudging against his ass and Bucky’s hand.

“Please,” Clint begged again, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. He rocked into Bucky’s hand, his cock sliding wetly against Bucky’s. “Need you, need you both…”

“Then you’ll have us both,” Steve whispered hoarsely in Clint’s ear. Clint shuddered at the feel of Steve’s lips on that part of him that he guarded so carefully. Clint’s ears had been a sore spot for a long time and he’d hidden his aides and how bad they were from his entire team. Nat knew because she was Nat. Tony knew because Clint had needed his help, but he hadn’t told anyone else.

The shudder that rolled through Clint at Steve’s words, from his hot breath, was equal parts arousal and trepidation. Steve nuzzled at his ear and Clint’s breath hitched, a sob rolling out of his throat. Fuck, he hoped they didn’t figure it out; he couldn’t stand it if they looked at him like he was less, even though he already knew he was.

“It’s okay, doll, we got ya,” Bucky murmured. His fingers eased free of Clint’s ass, having done their work thoroughly and Steve reached down between Clint’s legs, his hand brushing along his ass, teasing at Clint’s hole with his thumb on his way past.

Seconds later, with Steve sucking on Clint’s earlobe, the head of Bucky’s cock breached Clint’s rim, thick and heavy and slow. Clint was torn by the feel of Steve’s lips all too close to his secrets, and the absolute pleasure of being filled.

Bucky took his time, thrusting up in small increments, murmuring encouragements, his hands running up along Clint’s back down his arms – pausing to squeeze and fondle the muscles of Clint’s biceps – before one hand settled on Clint’s hip and the other squeezed his thigh, so close to where Clint hung, hot and heavy and desperate for their touch.

He shuddered, Clint’s fingers clutching desperately at the sheets, his breath hitching when Steve nosed up and over, mouthing lightly as he went.

“You’re safe with us,” Steve crooned against Clint’s temple, “Let us take care of you. You want that, right?”

Clint nodded into Bucky’s neck. He did. He so fucking did, but he was still tense from Steve being _right there, _relaxing slightly as Steve’s lips moved down and away.

“Clint?” Bucky prodded, his voice hoarse when Clint didn’t answer Steve’s question.

“Y-yeah, fuck…” Clint whined as Bucky worked inside him, stretching him, filling him. He sobbed again. Before today, the closest anybody got to breaking down his walls was Nat. Clint rarely asked for help, rarely let anyone take care of him. He was a disaster, and he knew it, but he didn’t need anybody’s help, didn’t want to bother anybody…

And yet -

And _yet -_

Here he was, with Steve licking his way over Clint’s shoulders and down, down, down, to where Bucky’s cock was fucking Clint’s ass so gently. Steve’s tongue probed where Bucky and Clint’s flesh met and both of them groaned at the wriggling, wet sensation of Steve working his tongue into Clint’s hole beside Bucky’s cock. Fingers spread Clint wide again and he panted into Bucky’s shoulder.

“So pretty for me, both of you,” Steve murmured before diving back in. Clint arched his back with a cry. He was on fire, his toes were curling – he was ready, he was so damn ready –

Steve pulled back, his tongue was gone and so were his hands but at least he wasn’t alone, wasn’t empty, he still had Bucky deep inside him, holding him close - but then Bucky stilled with his own whining growl that made Clint’s insides turn to jelly.

“Don’t stop,” he gasped, snapping his hips down – but he didn’t move an inch, super soldier strength holding him solidly in place, reminding him that he was all too human on a team of super soldiers and gods and everything in between.

“No, no,” Clint cried into Bucky’s shoulder. He hadn’t wanted to be reminded of all he was, of his every failure, how close he rode the line for being kicked off a team that could do better without him. He thought they could take him out of his mind but this was worse. “No, don’t stop…”

“Hmmm… Don’t worry, Clint,” Steve said soothingly. “We’ll take care of you. Me an’ Buck, we got ya, we’ll give you what you need, what you deserve –“

Clint whimpered. No, no, no… if they gave him what he deserved, they’d leave him, high and dry. They’d come to their senses and stop fucking him.

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed, doll,” Bucky said, giving his hips a small, gentle roll before stilling again, just enough to tease Clint.

“N-no-notice what?” Clint choked out, trying to pretend indifference, ignorance, and hating the tremor in his voice that betrayed him.

“The way you belittle yourself,” Steve said. He pushed in close, draping himself over Clint and Clint wanted to melt into his and Bucky’s warmth and comfort.

“How you see yourself as less capable than the rest of us,” Bucky said, a hand coming up to card through Clint’s short cropped hair, tugging at it gently to get Clint to meet his eyes. The earnestness there made Clint’s heart crack.

“I – I am less – “ he said, chest heaving roughly.

Bucky tugged his head again, a small, sharp movement that made Clint stop on a gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

“We’ve seen how you don’t value yourself, or your contributions to the team,” Steve continued. “What we don’t get is _why.”_

“You can’t be serious – “

Bucky growled. “Sweetheart, we’re _fuckin’ _serious.”

“I don’t deserve – “ Why was he arguing this? If they thought he was worth something, that meant they’d stick around. If they thought Clint had value – even if they were wrong – why couldn’t he just enjoy that while it lasted?

“You’re a goddamn miracle,” said the miracle, Steve’s large hands curling over Clint’s biceps again, giving them a caressing squeeze before slowly gliding his fingers downwards. Steve’s hips rolled in barely there, teasing touches.

“You give so much to the team, to each one of us – how could we not notice you never ask for or take anything in return?” Bucky said, his words almost too soft for Clint to pick up. “How could we help falling in love with you.”

“Fuck – “ Clint jerked in their arms, eyes flying open. Timed with Bucky’s unbelievable words – had it been on purpose? – Steve slid a lube slick finger inside him. Bucky groaned and twitched inside of Clint and Clint whimpered.

Desire pooled inside him, deep and needy, washing over him in a near overwhelming flood.

“We both love you, Clint,” Steve tugged lightly at the lobe of his ear as he spoke, adding another finger. It was quick, quicker than he’d expected, but Clint was more than ready, dripping against Bucky’s stomach.

“You can’t – can’t mean that,” Clint keened as Steve expertly twisted his fingers inside Clint. Bucky cursed from beneath him and that drove Cint’s need upwards, hearing Bucky’s own desperation.

“Oh, trust me, we mean it,” Steve said. “Captain America doesn’t lie.”

“Now that’s a damn lie,” Clint tried to point out, his voice rising on the last words while Steve continued to thrust his fingers in and out. God. Fucking. Dammit.

They were gonna kill him.

“He’s got you –“ Bucky gasped. “Fuck, Stevie…yeah, that’s… that’s good.” Bucky bit his lip and Clint’s eyes became transfixed at the sight of his plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. It took Bucky a few long seconds to regain his thread and continue. “He’s got you there. You always were a dirty liar.”

“Not about the important things,” Steve said. “And this is important. You’re important, Clint. Say it. _You. Are. Important._” Steve crooked his fingers and Clint moaned. God, having Bucky’s dick and Steve’s fingers in his ass – he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Please, please, please, let me come,” Clint begged. “Move!”

“Not until you say it…” Steve growled softly.

Clint shut his eyes tight, but tears leaked out of them anyway. He shook his head and fingers carded through his hair, stilled him with a strength he’d never hope to have. Still, those fingers were gentle as Bucky once more urged Clint’s head up so he could look into Clint’s eyes.

“Go ahead, doll,” Bucky whispered against Clint’s lips. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Bucky kissed him, Clint desperately thrusting his tongue into Bucky’s mouth but Bucky slowed the kiss, then pulled away, leaving Clint panting and struggling for breath. “It’s okay to feel you’re worth somethin’, cause you are, doll. And Stevie an’ I will tell you that as often as we need to, ya got that, you stubborn ass?”

Clint choked on a wet laugh, his whole-body throbbing with need and more emotions than he’d thought possible. No, he was positive now. They were gonna kill him.

Sparks flew behind his closed eyes when Steve withdrew his fingers and the tip of his cock nudged against Clint and Bucky. Clint groaned the entire slow slide of Steve working his way inside, matched by the groans Bucky made. It felt like Heaven to have them both inside him, and it probably felt like Heaven to have Steve’s cock pressed up against his.

Fuck, Clint hoped there was a next time, that they didn’t get disillusioned with him so fast that he didn’t get to try that himself.

The vise like grip on his hips eased a little as Steve bottomed out. the air was filled with gasping, panting breaths, their fingers squeezing spasmodically over his flesh.

“Feel so good,” Steve said into Clint’s shoulders, head dropped between them. Clint could feel Steve’s breath there as he adjusted to the feel of both of them inside him. it had been too long since he’d done this and it was glorious.

Made more so by who was doing it.

With more care than Clint thought he merited, Steve eased out with a slow, slow drag, then snapped forward. He repeated it again and again, slow and gentle thrusts building up to torture Clint – and Bucky. Clint moaned, rocking back and down. Bucky cursed again and surged upwards, claiming Clint’s mouth with his own, his hips jerking up pulling out a cry from Clint that Bucky immediately swallowed.

Clint broke away reluctantly. “Harder,” he begged.

“Not until you say it,” Steve said, panting, his words dripping with steely sweetness.

“I’m not – “ Clint protested, his tears running freely now. “I’m not like you guys. Not strong or smart –“

“But you are,” Bucky said. his hands cupped Clint’s cheeks, thumbs wiping at the tears. “We’re all different. We shore each other up with our differences. And you’re the team’s heart, doll. You’re_ our _heart.”

“We’ve wanted you, for so long,” Steve whispered, rolling against Clint and punctuating his words with gentle thrusts. “Wanted to show you how special you are, how much we care for you. We wanna know you, inside and out.”

Clint groaned at the particularly well aimed thrust Steve made, Bucky’s making his own shallow, careful thrusts.

“You’ve been through so much and you’ve come through the fire stronger,” Bucky said. “You’ve been my inspiration, doll.”

“But I’m not –“ Cint was a broken record, squeezing his eyes shut against the depth of feeling in Bucky’s eyes. They moved gently, covering him, hands wandering and caressing, their every touch sparking along his skin, making it harder for him to fight their words, to remember all the reasons why he should.

“You are,” Bucky insisted, biting at Cint’s neck.

“You are,” Steve agreed, his hands threading through Clint’s. The touch was much too reverent, too intimate despite the fact that he had their _cocks _in his _ass _\- and Clint dropped his head to Bucky’s chest, mouthed over his collarbones even as tears streaked down his face. “Now say it,” Steve cajoled.

“I…” Clint’s breath stuttered over Bucky’s skin.

Bucky rubbed up and down Clint’s sides encouragingly.

“I’m…”

Steve rolled his hips, cock brushing over Clint’s prostate.

“I’m important,” Clint finally managed to choke out.

“Yes,” Steve hissed, snapping his hips forward with slightly more force.

“I have value,” Clint said, gasping as Steve’s pace picked up, Bucky’s hands wrapping around Clint’s thighs to spread him more fully. Clint groaned, his arms trembling from holding himself up over Bucky so long.

“Fuck yeah, you do,” Bucky breathed out. His shallow thrusts changed, sliding deeper and harder and Clint keened.

“Beautiful,” Steve said. “Feels so damn good. Wanna make you feel good too.”

“I do,” Clint collapsed against Bucky’s chest. “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy futzin’ fuck!”

Clint shoved back on their dicks, his own cock rubbing over Bucky’s stomach, a hot, throbbing need, sticky with sweat and precome. He groaned. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s hands squeezed and massaged Clint’s thighs, keeping him wide for him and Steve. “Good job, doll,” Bucky said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“We’re both proud of you,” Steve agreed. He pulled back and dragged Clint up to lean against him. Clint rocked down with a cry, his head thrown back on Steve’s shoulder. He could feel his cock bobbing heavily between his legs and then a hand closed over it and he sobbed at the sensation.

Bucky stroked him, thumbing under the sensitive head and then at the slit at the tip and Clint shuddered, coming apart, coming all over Bucky.

Steve growled in his ear and Clint shuddered again, riding the aftershocks, riding their cocks, wanting to make them feel good too. Bucky came first, flooding Clint with come but then Steve followed after, hips stilling, cock buried deep in Clint’s ass.

Fuck, he’d never dreamed of being with even one of them, much less two of them, and here they were, filling him up, their come mixing inside him. That was… unbelievably hot and he wished he could come again, but he was neither a spring chicken or a super soldier.

His vision whited out for a moment, his ears turning their gasping pants into pure white noise, as Clint’s mind reeled over what had just happened.

He still wasn’t sure _how _he’d fallen into their bed – tripping, as was his wont (as Natasha would say), was the most likely explanation – but their confessions of love, the gentle care they’d taken, their insistence that he was worth more than he believed -

It was all heat of the moment words, Clint was sure, words they would regret later, when the got to know him better, when they learned of his past.

After all, he could only blame mind control for 3 shitty days of his oh so shitty life.

“Shhh…” Bucky cradled Clint close, having rolled them to their sides. The flesh arm was wrapped around him, the metal hand gently petting at Clint’s hair. He was shaking, he realized and he made a wounded sound, trying to pull back, to pull away –

The bed shifted and there was warmth at his back. A warm washcloth moved over his skin, Steve cleaning him up thoroughly, following each swipe with a soft kiss. After finishing with Clint first, then Bucky, Steve tossed the cloth somewhere Clint couldn’t see and lay down behind him, slotting his legs between Clint’s. His arms enveloped Clint in a way he couldn’t ever recall being held before. Clint felt safe between the two super soldiers.

He felt loved.

Could they really mean it?

Did he dare believe it?

People had turned on him before – family, friends, co-workers. What made them any different?

God, he wanted to believe. He was so fucking lonely and they were both so fucking beautiful and kind and, okay, Clint may have been harboring fucking crushes on them for a long time now. But it wasn’t like he’d ever thought anything could come of it.

Clint was an expert on unrequited crushes.

But then the crushes had become more and, according to them, was mutual.

They still didn’t know him. They didn’t know all his secrets. Only Nat came close. But she was special. She was family. She’d had no one else.

Steve and Bucky had each other. And this was a far cry from just putting up with his disastrous ways and his impulsive shenanigans.

“Yer thinkin’ too loud,” Bucky muttered. “Jus’ as bad as Stevie. Stevie, tell ‘m to stop.”

Steve chuckled against Clint’s back, shaking him with his mirth. “Buck,” he chided. Steve snuggled impossibly closer and Bucky nuzzled into Clint’s neck with a sigh. One of Steve’s hands stroked over Clint’s shoulder and down his arm.

“He ain’t wrong, though,” Steve said. “Don’t overthink it. We’re here, with you, cause we want to be.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Clint muttered reluctantly, his fingers clenching tightly over Bucky’s hip, unwilling to let go. He didn’t want to break this cozy little bubble they had going on, but… he wasn’t going to lie to them and everyone always did, eventually. His mind went to Bobbi, and to Laura. They’d both made promises he couldn’t fault them for not keeping. He was a screw up. He was just very good at pretending _not _to be, most days.

Bucky snorted. “I really think we won’t, doll.”

Steve obviously agreed by the squeeze he gave Clint’s arm and the three of them slowly fell asleep, a surprisingly comfortable tangle of limbs.

Despite his fears, as Clint gradually dropped to sleep, he made a decision. Maybe it would backfire, and he hoped to god it didn’t, but Clint was willing to – tentatively – believe.

To believe in them, in their words.

At least for now.


	2. Good Morning, Clint...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's first thought when he wakes up sandwiched between two super soldiers is more panic then bliss, but the morning is looking up from there.
> 
> A great _deal_ of up, in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes Bingo square - Morning Sex  
Winterhawk Bingo Square - Hurt/Comfort

Clint woke groggily, blissfully warm and surprisingly ungrumpy for having woken. He hummed, the vibration a soothing tickle in his throat that he couldn’t hear, and stretched –

\- and froze.

He wasn’t alone in bed. The warmth was encasing him from both sides and it wasn’t a blanket. Blankets didn’t breath, and the vibration he felt was the rise and fall of two chests pressing against him – last night wasn’t a dream and he _wasn’t alone._

And he couldn’t hear anything, but he would never have taken his aids out with the others around.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_, ran on repeat through his head as he tried (and failed) not to panic. Clint shifted cautiously, trying to disentangle himself, but the arms and legs wrapped around him only pulled him closer. He jerked, flailing and suddenly found himself free, tumbling to the floor, his knee slamming down painfully, his chest heaving.

A hand touched his back and Clint flinched. They were probably talking and _he_ _couldn’t hear them. _What were they saying? Were they regretting last night? Oh god, he knew he shouldn’t have… he shouldn’t have said yes… shouldn’t have agreed.

What had he been thinking? Typical Clint, leaping before he looked -

He sucked in a breath and choked, felt himself drawn up and back, strong hands pulling him gently to a hairy chest, a hand carding through his hair – no, they were pushing his hair back away from his ears and he flinched again.

They _knew._

Then Steve was there, crouching before him – which meant it was Bucky holding him close -Clint’s aids held out in his hands, his eyes filled only with concern, no judgement, no disdain.

Slowly, his eyes never leaving Steve’s, Clint reached for them with shaking hands, put them in and waited for them to kick in, for him to hear what they really thought of a team mate who was not just less than superhuman, but not even a fully functional human.

There’d be no way they’d keep him on the team after this. But maybe they wouldn’t tell SHIELD, and Clint could go back to saving the world, to making a difference _that_ way.

He didn’t know what else he was good for, if he didn’t have that.

Slowly, sound filtered into his awareness, as his aids tried to counteract his panic. Bucky’s fingers were rubbing at Clint’s back, traveling up and down his spine, his head tucked into Clint’s hair.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky said, the rumbling sound of his voice more soothing than Clint would have thought possible. He opened his mouth and hiccupped on a sob. Fuck, he was a fucking disaster.

“Clint, Clint, baby, please, you gotta breathe,” Steve said, his voice cracking in a way Clint had never heard before. Something thudded between Clint’s shoulders, hot breath hitting his spine, fingers gripping at his sides all too tightly.

_Steve._

“Think he had a nightmare?” Bucky’s voice dropped lower, low enough Clint’s aids almost didn’t pick it up, but Stark did his job all too well.

“Gotta be. We’ve all got cause for sleepless nights,” Steve said just as softly. “Caught Clint in the common room when we all shoulda been sleeping way too often for it to be coincidence.”

Slowly, held in their arms, without them saying one goddamn word about his ears, their voices, their touches, filled only with concern, Clint started to calm, to relax, tension bleeding away till he slumped in Bucky’s arms, eyes gritty and unpleasant.

Steve’s warmth disappeared and he whined before he could stop himself.

“Shhhh…” Bucky said, shifting Clint a little. “We got ya. You’re not alone, Clint.”

“Hey, drink this,” Steve said, coming back into Clint’s view, a bottle of cold water held out as he slid fluidly to the ground beside Clint and Bucky, his knees bumping into both of them, keeping contact.

Steve was still, one hundred percent naked, Clint suddenly realized.

So was he and Bucky.

Clint flushed as he took the bottle, gulping it down noisily. Bucky’s hands still ran up and down Clint’s spine, one curling around a flank.

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked.

“Y-yeah,” Clint managed, his throat feeling way too raw.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve asked.

His stomach dropped and Clint shook his head. “Not really.” He finished his water, waiting for them to push, to insist, but they didn’t do either of those things.

“You need anything?” Bucky asked when Clint had finished.

Clint took a deep breath, staring first at Steve, then twisting to stare at Bucky. At some point, the two super soldiers would come to their senses, but Clint had resolved to enjoy this while he could, to believe that he was worth their attention. He was already attached. Finding out now or later that they had changed their mind wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference, so he decided to just go with it, to take the comfort they offered and avoid his fears as long as he could.

Dealing with the fallout would be future Clint’s problem.

Nuzzling into Bucky’s neck, Clint whispered, squirming around to straddle Bucky’s lap, “Just this, the two of you. That’s all I need right now.”

Bucky’s eyes closed on a whimper, his head falling to the side, exposing his neck for Clint’s lips. Clint gasped at the sight, seeing how much Bucky wanted Clint. Was this real? Clint shifted closer to Bucky needing, suddenly, confirmation that it _was _real, to get as close as he could and draw out delicious little sounds.

Trailing open mouthed kisses along Bucky’s unshaven jaw, Clint reveled in the sound and feel of Bucky’s breath hitching, at the flex of Bucky’s fingers kneading at Clint’s thighs and ass, moving restlessly.

Beside them, Steve chuckled and Clint dragged his head up, pulling away from Bucky to stare dazedly at Steve.

One arm draped around Bucky, Clint stretched his other towards Steve. “What’r’you doin’ so far away?”

Steve swayed closer, a small, pleased grin quirking his lips. “Enjoyin’ the view,” he said, before pressing his lips to Clint’s.

Clint closed his eyes at the chaste touch, hand curling around Steve’s neck to drag him in, turn the kiss open and wet and _dirty_.

“Jesus, Clint, you’re somethin’ else,” Bucky breathed. “Can’t believe yer all right with us, with _this._”

Steve tapered their kisses off, pulling back, then standing, reaching down to haul Clint to his feet, Bucky following after.

“Stevie,” Bucky whined.

“Relax, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “He’s all yours this morning, but I need a few kisses to tide me over first.”

“Where you goin’?” Clint asked, his eyes going wide, body tensing.

Steve crowded him against Bucky and cupped his cheek, his thumb rubbing gently. “Nowhere, babe. I just can’t wait to watch the two of you,” Steve whispered. “Gonna be beautiful, like a sunrise.”

Blushing, Clint murmured his dissent and Steve chuckled, running his hand over Clint’s hot cheeks. “See?” he brushed his lips over Clint’s skin, “Like a sunrise. Warm too.”

Clint groaned, turning away from Steve and ducking back into Bucky’s neck. “Oh my god, stop. I’m really not…”

“Hey, what’d we say last night?” Bucky asked, “If we say you’re worth it, if we say you’re beautiful, they’re not just words, doll. We mean it.”

Nodding into Bucky’s neck, Clint shuddered against him, trying to take the words in. He still wasn’t sure he believed it, but… the sincerity dripped from Bucky and Steve both and, if nothing else, _they _believed it. So Clint would believe that they believed. It… was a step in the right direction, right?

Bucky maneuvered Clint back to the bed, shoving the tangled blankets down and away, kissing Clint softly, slowly. He pulled back and Clint chased his lips, Bucky chuckling.

“There, that’s more like it,” he said. “Now sit back, doll, I wanna ride _you _this time.”

Clint was sure he’d stopped breathing as he settled back against the pillows that he didn’t remember being propped up like that. Steve skipped back into view and Clint realized Steve had done it. Bucky settled on top of him, flushed and eager, pupils blown wide, lips parted and his hair falling in a tangled wave around his face.

Swallowing, Clint’s hands reached for Bucky, rubbing up and down Bucky’s thick thighs.

“_You’re_ beautiful,” he croaked out, watching Bucky flex his arm and arch his back to reach behind himself, eyes fluttering shut. Steve leaned over to kiss Bucky, a hank of Bucky’s hair in his hand. Clint saw tantalizing glimpses of their tongues sliding together wetly and he gasped, a tingle running through him.

Steve pulled away, breathless.

“Sure you’re not gonna join us?” Bucky moaned, rocking back into his own hand, his metal fingers splayed over Clint’s chest to keep him balanced.

“Not this time, or, at least not yet,” Steve said, his eyes glinting as he grinned down at Clint. “I won’t be far though. Just over there, in fact.” He nodded his head behind him and Clint shifted and…

_Oh god…_

“You’re going to _draw _us?” Clint squeaked.

“Really, Stevie?” Bucky whined, blushing a rather becoming shade of red himself, his fingers not faltering. “Rather have you join us.”

Steve grinned, an altogether all too evil grin to be on the face of Captain _Fucking_ America, Clint thought, and Steve teased a finger up along the underside of Clint’s twitching cock. Clint’s breath stuttered.

“Look at him, Buck, look at how _gorgeous _he is. I had literal years to capture you on paper, in all your various glory, but my fingers are _itching_ to capture Clint – and the two of you _together?_ How can I pass that up?”

Clint watched in wonder as Steve’s eyes went unfocused before they fluttered shut on a shuddering sigh, his cock hard. To think that Steve saw him, saw _Clint _like that was… mindboggling. Bucky made sense but Clint… It didn’t happen. It just didn’t happen in his experience.

Tears pricked at his eyes again and he blinked them back, his breath stuttering again for a completely different reason.

“Ssshhh… I got ya,” Bucky said suddenly, leaning forward to capture Clint’s face with both hands, one of them still sticky slick with lube. Clint didn’t care, closing his eyes against the burn and nuzzling into Bucky’s warmth. “I get it, Steve’s a little intense sometimes. Need me to tell him to cut it out?”

Clint’s eyes popped open, blinking up at Bucky first, then tearing away to look at Steve who was giving them both an unapologetic smile and a little shrug as he set up in the chair with his sketchpad. Clint flushed and his dick twitched against Bucky whose eyes went wide as he stared down at Clint with a slow, relieved, absolutely ecstatic smile.

Blushing furiously now, as if he hadn’t been blushing enough already, Clint tried to duck his head but there was nowhere to go.

“What’s that, doll?” Bucky breathed out, his hips rolling down, their cocks brushing lightly, tantalizing Clint. He pushed up only to find he couldn’t, Bucky’s hands having slid down to keep Clint’s hips pinned down.

“No, no, don’t stop,” Clint whined. “Please, let me…”

Bucky leaned down, brushing his nose along Clint’s cheek as he whispered close to his ear, Clint tamping down on the panicked little giggle that swirled through him as Bucky got so close. “You like us in control, don’t ya, doll? Like being watched too?”

He sucked at the underside of Clint’s jaw and Clint arched his neck to give him more space, much like Bucky had earlier. Bucky wasn’t wrong but Clint didn’t want to admit it, biting down hard on his lip. It was too close to a lot of things it was too soon for him to admit. Because doing so would push more feelings to the surface he wasn’t ready to share.

Clint liked doing things for the people he loved, liked pleasing them any way he could. He fell too hard, too fast and usually wound up broken hearted for it.

As much as they said it would, there was no way this would last. Bucky and Steve were _the _love story event of the ages.

Clint was just a bit of fun, nothing permanent.

No, no, no, he wasn’t going to listen to that part of him. He was taking this at face value, taking what they were willing to give him for as long as they did and he wasn’t going to ruin _any _of that by thinking of a future expiration date.

Bucky swiped his metal thumb over Clint’s bottom lip, getting Clint to let go of his lip on a gasp, then swiftly suck Bucky’s thumb inside. Bucky stared down at him, awe and something else shining in his eyes.

“Damn, but I love how it doesn’t even faze you,” Bucky whispered hoarsely, leaning down to brush his lips over Clint’s, sliding his tongue in alongside his thumb. Clint groaned at the contrast, soft flesh and hard metal, at the taste of Bucky – so undeniably him.

Drawing back, Bucky nipped his way down Clint’s neck, his stubble rasping against Clint’s sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Clint whimpered.

“We’re getting’ there, doll, promise,” Bucky said, rolling his hips down teasingly, their cocks sliding together hotly. Bucky continued to move against Clint gently - the heat of his body, the friction against Clint’s cock, a sweet torture – all while he mouthed his way over Clint’s collarbones slowly, sucking what was sure to be bruises into Clint’s skin.

Clint had one hand buried in Bucky’s silky, tangled mess of hair, the other groping frantically down Bucky’s spine, trying to urge him faster, harder, but Bucky kept it slow and sweet.

Bucky murmured words into Clint’s skin with each kiss, words too soft for Clint to hear in his worked up state.

Steve’s words, however, came in loud and clear and deliberate.

“Told ya. Fucking beautiful,” Steve swore. Clint whimpered. Something about _Steve_ swearing always threw him for a loop – and turned him on too. It was a little perverse, perhaps, but Clint didn’t care.

What he currently cared about was the fact that Bucky had found a nipple and was teasing the nub into a hard point with his teeth and tongue, and Clint was already so hard he could probably pound nails. Or a male. A specific male. A Bucky shaped male. But Bucky was still holding him down, intent – apparently – on driving Clint fucking crazy.

When Clint started begging, he wasn’t sure, but finally – _finally – _Steve said, “Go ahead, Buck. Give Clint what he needs.”

Bucky made his way back up to Clint’s mouth - a lot faster than the way down had been, thank fucking god – and gave Clint a deep kiss that had Clint moaning. Bucky swallowed each moan, then pulled back enough that when he spoke, their lips teased at each other. Clint shuddered, chasing after Bucky’s lips.

“Whaddya need, Clint?” Bucky whispered. “My lips?” Bucky kissed Clint deep, pushing down hard at the same time, his cock a hard, hot line against Clint’s instead of the sliding tease it had been before.

“My cock or – “ Bucky shifted, reaching down, grasping Clint’s dick and sliding up and down the shaft slowly, getting it slick at the same time. “My hand?”

Clint whimpered and Bucky grinned against his mouth and shifted again, lifting his hips. At that angle, the head of Clint’s cock caught on Bucky’s hole and Clint panted, fingers flexing, little ‘pleases’ spilling from his mouth.

“Or was it my hole you wanted?” Bucky rocked back, teasing the head of Clint’s cock with his rim, letting it catch, but never letting it slide in.

“Fuck, Bucky, please – “

“Go on, Clint, Buck asked you a question,” Steve said, the scritch scritch, scritch of a pencil flowing over paper echoing in Clint’s ears. He groaned, knowing that Steve was drawing them in all their nakedness, was watching them both with focused attention.

“Y-your hole, Bucky,” Clint stammered out.

“Good boy,” Bucky said, finally giving Clint what he wanted, working his way down over Clint’s cock in small increments. Pleasure washed through Clint at the praise and he flushed, hoping Bucky couldn’t tell it was from the words.

Hell, he hoped Steve couldn’t tell either, despite the single-minded focus he had on cataloguing everything about Clint and Bucky in that moment.

“That’s it, Buck, keep it slow, just like that,” Steve said evenly, though his tone hinted at arousal.

“Fuck!” Clint almost yelled. Bucky still held him still, controlling the pace completely, keeping it slow just like Steve had told him too. Inch by inexorable, agonizing inch, Bucky took Clint into his tight heat, clenching down on Clint’s cock rhythmically.

When Bucky sat flush, ass against Clint’s thighs, Clint saw the blush peeking out from behind the curtain of hair, spreading down over his shoulders and chest. He looked down at Bucky’s dick, hard and leaking and just a little red as it bobbed in place with Bucky’ heaving breaths.

“Ready?” Bucky asked, giving his ass a small flex at the words. A grin grew on his face as Clint nodded frantically.

“Ready, so ready Bucky, please, ya gotta move, man, I’m dyin’ here,” Clint rambled desperately.

Bucky rocked down on Clint’s dick with a breathless sigh, head thrown back and eyes closing. It was a beautiful sight, watching Bucky move above him, feeling him slide up and down Clint’s shaft, hands braced on Clint’s chest, the fingers curling into Clint’s chest hair, gliding over Clint’s oversensitive skin.

In that moment, Clint could absolutely understand Steve’s desire to draw them because Clint was being hit with that same damn need and the utter knowledge that he _couldn’t. _So instead, he stared up at Bucky hard, eyes roving over every inch, trying to etch the image into his brain.

Clint’s hands settled over Bucky’s hips, caressing in circular motions down his thighs and back up again, urging Bucky, soothing the fine tremble he could feel.

“Heaven,” Clint blurted. “You and Steve must be Heaven ‘cause nothing’s ever felt this good, this _right.” _

_Oh fuck, what the hell had he just said? _Clint closed his eyes tight in embarrassment and a hand cupped his jaw, petted at his cheek.

“We feel the same way, babe,” Steve said, his voice louder than expected, hoarse and filled with something that Clint didn’t dare name.

Clint tore open his eyes in surprise that Steve had apparently abandoned his sketchbook. Steve was kneeling by the bed, his fingers were covered in graphite and he was sure to be leaving smudges on Clint’s face but Clint didn’t care because Steve was kissing him and kissing him and kissing him.

And Bucky sped up, rising up and dropping down faster and harder and making Clint cry out into Steve’s mouth, made Clint arch up, straining against Bucky’s hands.

“There you are Stevie,” Bucky gasped on a particularly hard downward thrust of his hips. “Knew you couldn't resist for long, not with him laid out like this, all for us, just for us. He's fuckin gorgeous, ain't he? He's been so patient, he deserves a reward, don't ya think?”

“Hmmm, you might be right, Buck,” Steve said, his voice sounding wrecked just from watching them. Clint stared into Steve's eyes, blown so dark with desire and need that only a sliver of color remained. 

Clint reached for Steve, tried to pull him up and knew that despite his impressive arm strength from his archery, the only reason Steve did was because he _wanted _to, and Clint didn’t think he could get any harder at that realization but he did, Bucky’s movements stuttering slightly with a long drawn out moan.

Steve crawled up onto the bed at Clint’s urging, kneeling beside Clint's head. Clint's eyes fluttered and he desperately tried to keep them open - didn’t want to miss a damn bit of this - as he arched into Bucky, his fingers grabbing Steve's thigh hard, then tugging.

Steve moaned and _eagerly_ followed Clints’ pull until he straddled Clint's upper chest, obscuring Clint's view of Bucky. 

But now Clint's got a fucking great view of Steve's hard cock and he ain’t complaining about that.

Clint licked his lips.

Steve grinned down at him and took his cock into his hand, the look in his eyes showing he knew damn well what Clint was thinking. The head of Steve's cock pressed against Clint's lips, just a there and gone again touch that left a trail of precome behind. Clint's tongue darted out to taste it with a groan.

“Oh fuck,” Steve said, his tongue tracing the same path along his own lips. Steve looked down at Clint, his eyes wide with anticipation, breath coming a little quicker.

“You want this, my cock?” Steve asked, dragging it over Clint's lips and away again. Clint whined as Steve teased him, chasing after Steve’s cock with his mouth but unable to reach. Was Steve _trying_ to kill him? 

“Yes, Steve,_ please_,” Clint begged. He was pinned down with two fucking gorgeous super soldiers on top of him, Bucky driving him mad sliding down his cock relentlessly, Steve teasing as he held everything just out of reach – but Clint’s hands were free.

Before he could reach Steve’s dick, Steve pulled back. “Uh uh, no touching.” 

Clint growled in frustration, slapping his hands down onto Steve's spread thighs. Behind Steve Bucky groaned, clenching down on Clint and Clint gasped. God, it was like a feedback loop. They were_ definitely_ trying to kill him.

“Steve, _please_, I want it…” Clint’s nearly crying here and he’d be embarrassed except that he’s already broken down like that in front of them twice in the last 24 hours, so what difference did it make if he did?

“God, just give it to him already Stevie, stop being such a fucking tease,” Bucky bit out between punched out gasps. Hearing him get off on Clint’s cock had Clint’s eyes rolling up in his head.

Steve fed Clint his cock, Clint sucking along the hard line of it eagerly. Leaning forward, Steve braced himself on the wall, shuffling a little closer, shoving his cock in a little deeper.

“Jesus.” Steve stared at Clint as Clint took him all in proud of himself for being able to, and for putting that look of awe and raw need on Captain America’s face. “Fucking beautiful, babe, your mouth wrapped around my cock, you feel so gooooood…”

Steve's head arched back even as he pushed forward. Bucky’s face appeared in the crook of Steve’s neck, hair falling over Steve’s shoulder, his hands snaking around Steve’s chest, the angle of Bucky’s downward thrusts changing even as they grew more desperate.

“Fuck, doll, you’re gorgeous, taking Stevie like that,” Bucky groaned, biting at Steve’s neck. “Feel fuckin’ awesome inside me, too. God,” Bucky’s voice trailed off in a groaning sigh. Clint’s skin was electric, his mind whirling with pleasure both physical and _more_.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

Soon enough, Steve's set a peace great enough to leave him winded and Bucky's matching it, bouncing on Clint's dick with breathless abandon and Clint feels so fucking good. Knowing that they want him as badly as he does them, that he can make them feel this good makes Clint feel even better and before he knows it, he's stiffening up and coming in Bucky's ass with a garbled shout, fingers pulling Steve deeper desperately.

Clint’s hips are still fucking upward helplessly into Bucky’s tight heat with small, uncoordinated thrusts, as much as he can while pinned down and his eyes finally slip closed, overwhelmed with sensation. Steve’s dick twitches, then pulses in his mouth and Clint swallows with a moan before Steve pulls back, still coming wetly over Clint’s face.

Bucky’s still going, driving down hard now and whimpering as he chases his own pleasure. When it comes, it’s with a soft sigh. Bucky stills, slumping over Steve, who’s just barely holding himself up above Clint. Seconds later, Clint can feel Bucky dripping down onto his stomach.

_Fuck_, Steve’s back must be covered.

Steve slides sideways, catching Bucky before he can crush Clint. He eases Bucky off Clint’s softening cock and lays him out beside Clint then – just like when Clint woke up – Steve curls in on the other side of Clint. An arm drops over Clint’s middle, idly drawing patterns as Steve hums.

“You painted him up good, Stevie,” Bucky’s hoarse voice said in his ear. Clint startled a little when Bucky’s tongue rasps over his face, cleaning up Steve’s come and his cock twitches against his thigh but he’s well and truly spent.

“You got me fairly good too, Buck, I’ll have you know,” Steve said with amusement. “Gonna clean me up too?”

Clint’s not saying anything because what _can _he say? He’s too blissed out right now to let the panic from earlier return – and it will, he knows it.

But that’s a problem for future Clint. Right now, he’s going to enjoy this. He turns and nuzzles into Bucky’s face drowsily, his hand going down to catch Steve’s and thread their fingers together.

Bucky and Steve still, Steve giving their laced fingers a squeeze.

“You good?” Bucky asked.

“Hmm… Good morning to _me_,” Clint slurred happily, snuggling closer.

Steve laughed, his breath tickling Clint’s neck. “We tire you out?”

“”m fuckin’ two super soldiers, whaddya think?” Clint mumbled.

It’s Bucky’s turn to laugh, apparently, the chuckle reverberating through Clint’s body pleasantly. “Fair point,” he said finally. “Though if it helps any, think you held up your end fairly well, doll.”

Clint beams and hopes they can’t tell with his face mashed into Bucky’s skin and has to hold back the pleased squirm at Bucky calling him doll outside of sex.

It means something. He knows it does.

And Clint’s gonna hold onto that.


	3. Pet Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe after a mission gone poorly wasn't the _best _ time to ambush Clint.
> 
> Or 
> 
> The one where Clint makes assumptions he really shouldn't be making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, only angst
> 
> seriously, this chapter wasn't supposed to get angsty, but Clint has a mind of his own.   
Also, he definitely is reading too much (not enough) here, due to a combination of things (his low self esteem, his ongoing certainty that this has an expiration date, and his bad headspace from a mission gone wrong) so... yay misunderestandings?
> 
> ALSO- this was written with the MFD prompt in mind and then i remembered it's a Winterhawk prompt and this is AmeriWinterhawk so... its MFD inspired, i guess.
> 
> Also Also, thanks to Greyishblue for the comment about Pet names that solidified something that i'd already kinda set up but hadn't actually consciously thought of.

The last thing Clint expected when he and Nat returned from a mission was to find Bucky waiting for him outside his room. Even _months_ after this thing between the three of them had started and Clint still felt a thrill every time he saw them - or thought of them, for that matter. It was hard dragging himself away from them, hard to not curl up into their arms and snuggle with them at the tiniest _hint _of an opportunity.

Stil…

Clint groaned. Every muscle in his body ached like a son of a bitch and as much as he enjoyed their bedroom romps, he wasn’t up to taking on one super soldier, much less two.

“Can this wait? I just wanna sleep for a week,” Clint said, stumbling to a stop in front of Bucky who was blocking his way to the door.

Bucky rolled his eyes with exasperation. “I told Stevie that’s what you’d think was up. Nah, doll, we get it. Need to unwind after a mission, and you will. We just missed you, is all. Thought we’d help you unwind a little, take care of you a bit.”

“You missed me?” Clint asked dazedly.

“Of course we did,” Bucky said gently, reaching for Clint and tapping their heads together, bringing Clint into a hug that Clint couldn’t help but return, albeit a little bemusedly as he tried to figure out just what was going on.

Being in Bucky’s arms, as confusing as it was, felt too damn good to let go, and when Bucky started steering him down the hall and back toward the elevator, Clint just let him, unable to tell him no. Trusting Bucky to steer him true, Clint leaned into him, dropping his head onto Bucky’s shoulder as they stood side by side in the elevator.

Mere seconds later, they were being dropped off on Bucky and Steve’s floor and Clint followed Bucky without even opening his eyes. He finally _did _open them when they came to a stop. Yawning, Clint took in the dozens and dozens of candles spread around the insanely large bathroom. Tony Stark spared no expense when it came to his friends and Clint’s bathroom was just as insane – a fact that he took great advantage of with only a little uneasiness at how lavish it was.

It was hard to turn away an unbeatable water pressure, unlimited hot water and a tub big enough for an army when it was time to soak battle wearied muscles.

“What… what’s all this?” he asked, blinking at the sight of all those long tapered candles. The majority were white, but he caught glimpses of purple here and there.

Steve stepped into view then, not a stitch of clothing on, and smiled. “Didn’t Buck tell you? We missed you. And… we heard it was a difficult mission, thought we’d give you something else to think about.”

And that right there was why Clint loved Bucky and Steve, their thoughtfulness and care was just… so amazing. It really had been an awful op, scenes Clint never wanted to see again replaying in his head.

He was going to ignore the part where he’d just admitted to himself that he loved them. Obviously, his brain was too tired to properly police itself. And he was too tired to deal with that revelation now.

Future Clint could deal with it.

Right now, Bucky was undressing Clint while Steve held him steady. Now they were drawing him into the ridiculously large bathtub and Clint let out a groan as his skin hit the just on the right side of too hot water. He slumped bonelessly as they settled into the tub, Bucky chuckling by his ear, Clint too tired to do anything else. But between Bucky and Steve, they had it covered, slowly washing Clint’s body, massaging aching muscles, leaving little kisses in their wake.

Nothing meant to stir the blood, but good nonetheless. Which was good because Clint wasn’t really in the mood for that right now, wasn’t even hard, but God this felt good, he felt _warm _and _cared for _and he couldn’t stop the soft sounding groans as they worked him over with alternating gentle glides and firm touches.

At one point, they drained the tub and rinsed him down, then filled it again to just soak and Clint drifted in their arms. Nobody had removed his aides and he thanked god for water proofed Stark Tech. He hated calling attention to them, didn’t want to remind his sometimes lovers that they even existed and they’d learned to ignore them after the first few times he’d reacted badly and they’d finally made the connection.

He’d been so embarrassed about that, hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of it, but they moved on like it was nothing, like nothing was too much for them to do for Clint.

He felt so goddamned _loved_ right now that it was in these moments he found it so much easier to believe their words. The ones that said he was beautiful, that they wanted him, cared for him, that he had value and they wanted to be _with him._

_Him._

Clint Barton, disaster human.

It almost made up for everything else. Those moments in the common rooms when Clint would have reached out for them if they’d given him the slightest indication it was welcome. Those moments during Movie Night when he would come in and see Bucky and Steve sat on the couch with no room for Clint. Taking up more room than they needed to, in fact, on a couch large enough for a third. More if they were really being friendly (not that Clint wanted to share it with anyone other than Steve and Bucky. The idea of anyone else being with them as their third made Clint sick to his stomach, but he knew he had no right to forbid it).

It hurt, to think that they _only _wanted him in the bedroom. That it was all he was good for. That they had no room in their lives for anything else, anything more than some fun romps of the bedroom variety.

Clint didn’t realize he was dwelling and working himself up until Bucky shifted behind him, his arms tightening around Clint, breaking the silence, “What’s the matter, doll?”

Clint jolted then, caught in his whirlwind of thoughts, his downward spiral. Something of it must have shown on his face because Bucky’s voice was concerned, his hands shifting to rub along Clint’s arms gently. Swallowing, Clint somehow managed to keep the panic off his face even as he flailed internally, frantically searching for an answer that would placate them.

There was no way he could tell them what was _really _on his mind. That he wanted _more _than they were capable of giving.

“Babe?” Steve leaned around to peer at Clint the longer Clint was silent and that one word gave Clint a lifeline, an out, a topic to pursue that would sound completely reasonable.

“Why don’t you use pet names?” he blurted out.

“What?” Bucky’s brow creased as he and Steve looked at each other, their confusion clear. This was obviously not the line of whatever they’d thought Clint would be thinking of.

“Pet names?” Steve drew the words out slowly. “We don’t have any pets, so…”

Clint rolled his eyes. Steve may have missed out on a lot of things and slang and shit while on ice, but he’d been out for a while, was friends with Nat and he wasn’t dumb. He _had _to be messing with Clint.

“Pet names. You know, like doll and babe,” Clint said, biting his lip. “You guys use them on me all the time but not on each other. Why would you –“ _waste it on me when I don’t matter_, he wanted to say, but he managed to hold the words in. “Why don’t you?” he amended.

“Oh…” Bucky said thoughtfully. He leveled a shrewd look at Clint but Clint didn’t know what he was seeing.

“But we do,” Steve protested. He, at least, still looked perplexed and Clint thought it just might be genuine this time.

“Uh, no you don’t. I’m doll and you’re Stevie. I’m babe, and he’s Buck. That’s just your _names_,” Clint pointed out. “Nothing special about them.”

Understanding dawned on Steve’s face. “Ah, I see where you’re coming from, but it’s not quite like that,” he said. “Nobody but us uses Stevie and Buck, and if they try, we discourage it.”

“But it’s not very…” Clint waved a hand in the air, floundering for words. Water splashed as he did. “_Lovey dovey_.”

Bucky chuckled, but it was bitter and caused Clint’s heart to ache. What had he said to bring that sort of feeling on? “Back when it was just us, before the war and all the shit that came after, we couldn’t exactly advertise what we were to each other.”

_Oh…_

“It’s a habit,” Steve said with a shrug. “It just never occurred to us to change it and by now… well, those names hold a wealth of feeling and memories for us.”

“Oh,” Clint breathed. “But it’s not like that anymore. You don’t gotta hide that you’re together now. There’ll always be haters, sure, and the two of you are kinda high profile so you’ll see them more than you want, but you can do it, if you want. Stop hiding, I mean. Could be the event of the century, y’know? The epic love story of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, finally reunited – would sure make for hell of a publicity stunt. I mean, not that it’s a stunt, but think of all the people that look up to you both that you could inspire! And Tony’d help, I’m sure, he knows how to, well, on second thought, maybe don’t ask Tony, he’s kinda over the top… might start shouting it off rooftops or skywrite it with the Iron Man suit, or craters on the moon…” Clint trailed off as, instead of looking enlightened or pleased by the prospect of being free to be public with each other, Bucky and Steve’s faces had fallen, looking sad.

What had he said wrong? Oh, oh, well, now that he thought about it, even though they must know it was okay to be out around the other Avengers, that no one would judge, Clint didn’t think he’d ever seen them be open about themselves out in the common areas. Maybe they didn’t _want _to come out… maybe they were uncomfortable with public displays of affection and here he was telling them what to do and – _ewww!_

“Not that you have to, of course! Far be it from me to force anyone outta the closet or, y’know,” Clint rambled out in a rush, the panic he’d tried to ditch was returning tenfold. Awww, panic, no.... “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to push. I – “

Clint groaned and scrunched up, pulling away from their warmth, pulling his knees up out of the water and dropping his head onto them, wrapping his hand over his head and pulling at his hair. “Oh my god, I’m just gonna shut up now before I make thing worse.”

“Clint – “ Steve started, a hand touching his neck. Clint flinched. The hand dropped away. There, they’d already taken away his pet name. He’d known this wouldn’t last.

It was quiet, too quiet, when Clint finally gathered the strength to rise to his feet, Bucky and Steve rising with him. Clint avoided looking at them. “I’m exhausted and imma just… thanks for this… I’m just gonna…” he stumbled, looking for his clothes, eyes straining against dim candlelight, a mix of steamy and smoky haze and the burning in his eyes.

Something was pushed into his hands and he took the bundle automatically – his clothes, and all the weapons he hadn’t stripped down and put away in his locker. Bucky was looking at him sadly, Steve was looking lost and a little hurt – why did _he_ look hurt? Clint couldn’t help think it a little resentfully. It was Clint’s heart that was breaking, after all.

Oh, Clint realized, Captain America hated disappointing people. He just had too big of a heart. He probably felt bad about not being able to reciprocate Clint’s feelings which Clint was probably broadcasting from space at this point.

Aww, Steve, no.

Clint’s fault, all over again.

They followed him out of the bathroom, the three of them dripping on the floor. Shit, fuck, he was making a mess out of their place. Good going, Clint. He passed the bed and headed for the door, not caring that he was still buck ass naked, just needing to get out of there, now, before he broke down and cried.

Again.

“Wait… Clint?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant. It wrenched through Clint because Bucky hadn’t sounded that lost since his early days in the tower. Something he had done, had said, had done that, had even taken away _doll_, which he so loved to hear Bucky call him and only him. He swallowed hard and pushed through to the door.

He managed to hold it together in the elevator, only praying that nobody would need it while he was in it, breathing only the barest sigh of relief when he made it back to his floor undiscovered and unimpeded.

His door opened soundlessly and seamlessly as he approached, closing behind him just as smoothly.

He took one step, maybe two before he collapsed into a pile with his things. He sobbed into his clothes, grateful for the privacy and when he was all cried out, he was too fucking exhausted to move. Bed was too much effort. Clint had a pile of… _mostly_ comfy clothes right here, if he ignored the various knives and other items trapped inside them.

It would do.


	4. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are left reeling after Clint's abrupt departure, asking themselves _why_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A change in the POV - Bucky, after Clint takes off.
> 
> so, i actually have the next chapter all written and finished the chapter after THAT last night. i had STARTED this one, which i never intended to write, after i finished the next one but then it didn't want to flow. 
> 
> Making these guys talk is so haaaaard.... but i finally like what i've got. So we're not quite there yet, but we're getting closer :D

Steve stared at the closed door forlornly, that kicked puppy look on his face. “I don’t understand what just happened. We didn’t even get to…”

Bucky sighed. “You and your plans, Stevie. I told you it was too soon. Let’s just, give him some space.”

Whirling, Steve glared at Bucky though there wasn’t any real heat in it, just frustration and maybe a little bit of despair and hurt. “Haven’t we already _given_ him space? How much more can we _give_?”

“That’s a little selfish of you, ain’t it, Stevie?” Bucky snapped. Steve’s face fell and his shoulders drooped and Bucky instantly felt like a heel, stepping over to grasp Steve and pull him into an embrace, pulling Steve’s head down to rest on his shoulders. Steve wrapped himself around Bucky, their wet bodies shivering a little at the hint of moving air, and held on tight.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered. “He’s pulling away from us, Buck. I can feel it, but I don’t know _why.”_

Bucky closed his eyes, rubbing a hand up and down Steve’s spine. “Shhh… we’ll figure it out, all right? Nat said this last run was bad. He wasn’t in a good space, right? Let’s give him a couple days to rest, then we’ll go talk with him. If we chase him now, he’s only gonna run further.”

Leading Steve to the bed, Bucky managed to get him to sit, but when he began to pull away, intent on finding them a couple of towels, Steve clung to him. “Hey, hey, I gotta blow those candles out before we burn down the tower, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve blew out a whining breath but nodded and let Bucky go. Bucky went as quickly as he could, dousing the candles with a touch of his metal fingers or a blown breath – there were a lot of them – and then grabbing a couple of their biggest, fluffiest towels.

He returned to the bed, dropping the towel on Steve’s head, laughing as he heard Steve splutter. Bucky wiped himself down and tossed the towel aside just as Steve finished. Steve glared pointedly, carefully folding his own towel and leaving it on a chair while Bucky flopped to the bed and sprawled out.

“You’re such a slob,” Steve muttered without any heat. Bucky knew he didn’t _really _care about the towel, but he was still upset about Clint leaving them like that.

“Steve, forget the towel and just come here,” Bucky said, pulling back the covers.

“But – “

“Stevie, please,” Bucky said softly, letting enough of his own upset linger in his voice to get Steve’s protective instincts going. Steve was at his side, sliding under the covers and taking Bucky into his arms and Bucky relaxed, slumping into them.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I know, you’re upset about it too, you’re just better at hiding it.” Steve kissed the top of his head. “Always were.”

Bucky snuggled in closer, wrapping himself around Steve like a limpet, causing Steve to chuckle lightly. Fingers started to thread through his hair and oh, that was heaven. If Old Bucky had known how nice it was to have his hair played with like that, he’d have grown it out back then.

“I still don’t know what we did,” Steve said plaintively. “I thought, it was going so well. We were all relaxed and then… we weren’t. I get he was tired, but when he said he just wanted to rest, I thought he’d at least do it here, with us…”

Bucky was silent, letting Steve talk out his confusion as he turned things over in his own head. He thought he’d snagged a few things as Clint talked. He’d talked _around _what had been bothering him, sure, but some things had been brought up.

The pet names, as Clint had called them, seemed to be the biggest clue. They had their names for each other, their names for Clint, but Clint, Bucky had only then realized, had never called them anything special, or unique. The question was, why?

Did he not feel like he was allowed to? Did he hold back because he was afraid he’d get too attached? Or did he not feel the same way about them as they did him?

In addition to that, his confusion about their pet names for each other, followed by his insistence that _they _didn’t have to hide – Bucky hadn’t thought they were, to be honest - left Bucky feeling that Clint still didn’t feel he was truly a part of them.

“Stevie,” Bucky started. Steve’s fingers stuttered, then resumed.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Do you think the others know you and Clint are my fellas?”

“The others, like, the rest of the team? Sure, they gotta know, right?”

“I’m…” Bucky’s hand clutched at Steve. “I’m not sure that they do. We never actually just _said _anything and… we’re not very demonstrative outside our own apartments.”

“Buck, you know PDA was risky when we were growing up. Like we told Clint, with the, the pet names, it’s just habit,” Steve said.

“Yeah, but it’s a habit we’ve extended to Clint.”

Steve was quiet a moment and Bucky knew his keen tactical mind was working that through, comparing it to the conversation in the tub. Nevertheless, as if he didn’t like his own conclusion, Steve asked slowly, “What do you mean, Buck?”

“I mean, punk, we didn’t act like a couple with each other _or _with Clint. We never really made… space with him outside of here. How’s that gotta feel?”

“Oh god,” Steve breathed. Bucky could _hear _the wheels turning in Steve’s head as he went through everything from the past few months and longer. “Oh god. We kept telling him how much we cared for him, but then we don’t show it around anybody, even our friends? We’re awful, Buck.”

“No.” Bucky pulled back, looking Steve in the eyes. “It was a mistake, a misunderstanding. We’re only awful if we don’t _fix _it. So, let’s fix it.”

“Clint’s stubborn. That could be easier said than done,” Steve said.

“Yeah? Good thing I know someone just as stubborn as he is,” Bucky said, smirking.

* * *

Sadly, Steve was right.

Clint was stubborn and it was easier said then done. Neither of them wanted to invade his privacy and with Clint hiding in his rooms and not answering the door, well, there was only so much they could do except wait and hope.

It was terrible.

It was bad enough that the rest of the team wound up noticing.

“Hey, what’s got our super soldiers looking like a couple of kicked puppies?” Tony said one morning on his way to the coffee pot. “Also, has anyone seen Clint recently? I got some trick arrow ideas I wanted to run by him.”

Bruce sighed from the stove, pushing into Tony’s space and talking softly, though not soft enough to keep Bucky and Steve from hearing. “Why do you think they’re moping? _No _one’s seen Clint for over a week. Except maybe Nat.”

“What? Our resident archer is hiding? How out of character for him,” Tony said carelessly, pulling a mug down. “Anyone check the roof?”

Steve shoved his chair back, abandoning his breakfast and stalking off.

Tony blinked. “What’d I say?”

Bucky glared and hurried after Steve, catching up with him before they reached the elevator. Inside, Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“We fucked up so bad, Buck,” Steve said. “You were right. Tony didn’t even have a _clue _and now Clint won’t talk to us.”

Bucky ran a hand up over Steve’s back and down again, back up and kneading at the hard line of his shoulders. “Tony’s just oblivious. Bruce knew.”

The elevator door swished open silently and Bucky urged Steve into their apartment. Both of them halted when they noticed Natasha sitting on their couch, trimming her nails.

“Nat,” Steve said. “What… what are you doing here? Is Clint all right?”

Bucky’s attention, already on Nat, focused, looking her over carefully. She was put together, not a hair out of place. She was concerned, but not frantic. He relaxed minutely. Whatever she was there for, it wasn’t an emergency.

“Physically, yes,” she said, inclining her head, a small smile of approval twitching at her lips before falling away again. “But I was hoping you two could give me insight as to why he’s shut himself away.”

“And why would we know –“ Steve protested, automatically, then winced. Bucky knew what he was thinking. It was that reflexive behavior to _hide _that had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

She rolled her eyes, but it was understanding. “Please, most of us know what’s been going on. What happened?”

Steve slumped, falling onto the opposite end of the couch from Nat, Bucky tucking himself in behind Steve and lending him support.

“We didn’t realize,” Bucky offered. “What we were doing, that we were hurting him, leaving him out in any way. It was the last thing we wanted to do. We’re just… this century is so different than what we’re used to. It’s not an excuse but…”

“You’re used to hiding,” Nat said. “I get that. For different reasons, perhaps, but the principle is the same.” She sighed and tapped lightly at her chin. “All right, what are your intentions from here?”

“Fix it,” Steve said with no hint of hesitation. “We need him, Nat.” Steve’s voice broke and Bucky dropped his head between Steve’s shoulders, tightened his arm around Steve’s stomach. A second later, Steve’s hand joined his and grasped it like a lifeline.

“We love him. I didn’t think I’d ever love anybody other than Bucky, didn’t think I’d ever need anyone else besides Buck but… our lives dim without Clint. He’s so much a part of us that…” Steve shook his head. “We just don’t know how to get him to _see _that.”

“But damned if we’re not gonna try,” Bucky said, lifting his head to prop his chin on Steve’s shoulder, peeking around to look at Nat.

She stared at them for a long time, then gave them a firm nod at whatever it was she saw – determination, Bucky hoped - and stood. She placed a hand on both their heads briefly and gave them a small smile.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” Steve breathed out.

Bucky, all worded out for now, just reached out to grasp Nat’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

For the first time in days, Bucky felt hope.


	5. Saved by the Bell..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint really doesn't want to talk about it with anybody, even Nat, so thank god for the call to Assemble... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's just a little bit of a cliff hanger here, but i promise it'll be FINE....
> 
> ... please don't kill me?

Clint spent the next two weeks avoiding Steve and Bucky. Mostly by just _not _leaving his room. Or answering his door if Bucky and or Steve showed up. Thank _god _for JARVIS. Certainly gave a new meaning to call screening as Clint pretended _not _to be ‘home’ every time they dropped by.

He wasn’t ready to face them yet, when his feelings were too close to the surface. Clint needed to get a handle on this, needed to be able to push it all down so they could still function as a team. They didn’t need him fucking things up because he got in too deep, like he’d known he would from the start.

Of course, this didn’t exactly go unnoticed.

And there was no call screening Nat. Clint simply woke up to her sitting on the edge of his bed one morning, holding out his aides and a firm but concerned look on her face.

He didn’t make a move to take the aids. He knew that look. That look was the “_What have you done now? Something stupid, I bet. We need to talk_,” look.

It was amazing what she could convey with an eyebrow alone.

Clint groaned and rolled away. “No,” he said petulantly.

He could feel her gaze boring into him and he sighed. “Fine, but coffee first,” he mumbled, rolling back over and throwing the covers off. He took the aids reluctantly, and put them in, then stood and shuffled over to his kitchen.

Nat followed and remained blissfully quiet as he puttered about making coffee, then through Clint drinking the first cup. By the time he sat down with the second cup, she broke her silence.

“Bucky and Steve have been moping about the tower and you’ve gone into seclusion,” she let the sentence lay between them for a moment, waiting for him. He refused to pick up the bait. She sighed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he protested.

“You’re telling me the two things aren’t related?” she asked dryly, crossing her hands over her chest. He winced.

“Nothing _anymore_,” he clarified weakly.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you telling me you broke up with them?”

“Broke up is a harsh term, not to mention a strong one. We weren’t a thing, Nat, just… friends with benefits,” Clint said mournfully. “Besides, it was clear they were done with me.”

“Evidence speaks to the contrary,” she said.

He stared at her blankly.

“The moping, Clint. It’s getting ridiculous. I thought it was bad enough when Captain America moped, but now the Winter Soldier is making sad eyes right along with him and it’s bringing down the whole Tower. Even Thor couldn’t cope with it and he took off for home,” Nat explained.

“But why would _they _be moping?” Clint asked. They couldn’t have been moping about him. They had each other, they didn’t _need _a disaster like him.

Nat stared at him, something like disappointment in her eyes. _Awww, Nat, no…_ he hated that look. “For someone so smart, you’re such an idiot,” she said, but it was said with fond exasperation and Clint would take that as a win. He needed all the wins he could get right now.

As if the universe had heard him, the Avengers call ran through the building. He cursed, nearly dropping his mug before slugging it back, slamming it back down on the table empty and exploding into motion, Nat already ahead of him.

This,_ this_ he could do.

It was probably just a bunch of doombots anyway.

* * *

Spoiler, it wasn’t doombots.

It was worse. HYDRA goons. A fuck ton of them, in fact. They’d been at this for twenty minutes already and there didn’t seem to be any less of them than there had been when they started. What, had HYDRA gone to the Goons’R’Us depot and picked up mobs on sale or something?

Well, at least Clint was getting his frustrations dealt with in the most cathartic way ever. Draw, breathe, release. Arrow after arrow as rooftop support with one ear on the coms to keep track of everything.

Clint frowned when he looked around and noted that while he was still swarmed here, the rest of the Avengers had disappeared from his view.

That wouldn’t do. How could he watch their backs if he didn’t know _where _their backs _were?_

“Cap and the Soldier are down! I need some help here,” Widow’s voice called over the com, shattering Clint’s hard won calm. “Something – some kind of gas - targeted them specifically. Whatever it is, isn’t affecting me, but we’re pinned down. Need an EVAC ASAP.”

“Can’t reach you,” Tony grunted. “There’s practically an army between us and there are civilians trapped here.”

Clint’s blood ran cold. Thor was off planet, Hulk hadn’t come because Banner was on sabbatical somewhere, Sam was off in DC and the spider kid didn’t even live in the tower. That left him, the unenhanced one, left to save the day. Like he could take on what a super soldier couldn’t but it was _Bucky _and _Steve._

He couldn’t_ not _try.

His body was moving before he’d even finished the thought, snapping off an arrow at the fucker trying to sneak up on him without looking, too busy scanning the buildings around him for the most effective routes to wherever Nat, Steve and Bucky had wound up.

“Position?” he barked out.

“Two blocks north, 1 west of you, Hawkeye,” Widow sounded breathless.

With a determined nod, Clint took a few steps back, then ran forward and jumped the roof. He landed and took off running, dodging blasts and obstacles as he was chased by a herd of goons. Clint leapt over the gaps of the buildings with ease, tossing a few explosion arrows behind him to thin the herd before readying an arrow for the upcoming street jump.

Without slowing down, he shot, swung out over the abandoned street traffic and then down in a controlled slide. He landed on the surprisingly empty sidewalk with a light thump, pulled at the grappling rope and took off running once more.

When he rounded the corner, Nat was the only Avenger still standing, Bucky and Steve on the ground, motionless.

Clint’s heart clenched, but there was no time for that. Cycling his arrows, he started picking of the HYDRA goons one by one from the shadows, hoping to buy Tony time to reach them or for Bucky and Steve to snap out of whatever had been done to them.

What if they didn’t, though? What if they were so badly injured even their super soldier bodies couldn’t compensate? With something especially designed to take _them _out, it was all too possible.

_Oh god, you can’t die on me, _Clint thought desperately. “They’re not moving. Widow, what did they _do?”_

”HYDRA wants their asset back, they must have had something ready to incapacitate him if he ever went rogue. Not like they didn’t have him long enough to design something to take him down and if the serum they gave Bucky is _anything _like what Steve’s got running through his system…”

“Not a big leap from nabbing one but two. Plus, if they take Steve at the same time, they’ve got leverage _and _they keep Steve from tearing the world apart to get Bucky back. Again,” Clint finished, not pausing an instant as his hand flew, arrow after arrow leaving his bow, but there were too many of the goons closing in on their position and he’d lose that advantage soon. “But they couldn’t have been certain it would have even _worked _on Steve.”

“Maybe they hit him with a double dose,” Iron Man said over the comms. “Think I’ve mopped up the rest over here. On my way to you. Status Report.”

“Barely holding,” Widow said, taking another guy down. Clint was worried. Nat was good, but she was better close quartered, while he was better ranged, but there was too _many _of them for that. The two of them usually managed to set situations up like this to their advantage, where Hawkeye watched her back from a secure vantage, but there was never _this many_.

Unless you counted New York, but New York had been a goddamned mess and Clint_ wasn’t _counting that.

All too soon, the goons had gotten too close for Clint and he had to switch to bashing baddies with his bow and drawing knives. He whirled in practiced movements – his specialty may have been a bow, but he was SHIELD and _Widow_ trained, after all – and held his own, ignoring the rabbiting of his heart, the worry over Steve and Bucky who were still lying prone in the street.

No, they’d be okay, they’d get them out of here. Clint didn’t think his heart could survive it if _either _of them died, much less _both _of them.

It was a nightmare, the three people he cared about most trapped in a bad situation, where death was actually a likely outcome. Growling, his heart in his throat and fear rolling through him, Clint channeled it all into taking down goon after goon, each spin, punch, and kick becoming a blur. He ducked under a swing and lunged forward, slashing with his knife.

“Switch!” Nat yelled, and Clint ducked again, rolling as she flipped over him, throwing the goons off. If there was a bright side to this, Clint thought grimly, it was that the goons seemed to really be goons: standard issue, off the street, barely trained hires that had been counting on their numbers to take them down.

A blast hit the outer ring of baddies, the concussion of it rippling under Clint’s feet and almost taking him down with it. The bad guys started dropping like flies, faster than he and Nat had been managing.

Showoff.

But a welcome showoff.

“Hey kids, you miss me?” Tony said, hovering and sending repulsor blast after repulsor blast into the crowd. Clint and Widow mopped up the last couple goons and Iron Man landed with a metallic thud.

“Oh damn, they’re _really_ out cold, aren’t they?” Tony said.

“Shut up, Tony, and help us,” Clint growled. “We have to get them out of here. Between us, we should be able to get them back to the jet. Nat, watch our six?”

“Relax, Legolas, no need to get your panties in a twist. I got JARVIS piloting the quinjet, it’s almost here,” Tony said, though he was giving Clint a sympathetic look, one of understanding. Clint didn’t know what Tony was thinking and right now, he could care less. Steve and Bucky were more important and Clint scanned the sky for the quinjet, anxiously -

There - now he could hear the engine as the wind picked up, and Clint, breathing hard, looked between Steve and Bucky, unable to decide who to help first when they _both _needed help.

“I’ll get Terminator. With his arm and the arsenal, he carries, he’s gonna be a little heavier than Cap,” Tony said, making the decision for him. Clint nodded and stepped over to Steve. Steve’s eyes were just blinking open – whatever they’d given to him had been designed for Bucky so maybe Steve was popping out of it a little faster, as Bucky still wasn’t moving.

“I think Steve’s waking up,” Clint called out before crouching next to Steve. Slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulders, he urged him upright. “C’mon, Steve, let’s get you up and moving, all right?”

Grunting as he supported Steve’s weight, Steve was nevertheless awake enough to at least move his feet so that made things a _little _easier getting him up the ramp as soon as the jet had landed. Tony was on board first, of course, the suit more than equal to the moving of a bulky super soldier.

Bucky was already laid out on a bench, still out cold; Tony’s faceplate was up and Widow was following Clint as he lowered Steve into a seat as near Bucky as Clint could get him.

Steve’s eyes hadn’t left Bucky since they’d gotten on board. But that was okay, Clint was used to that. Exhaustion hit him in a rush, aches and pains he hadn’t realized he had pushing their way through the fading adrenaline and Clint let himself collapse into another seat.

“Cap – did you get hurt?” Tony blurted seconds later. Clint’s eyes dragged back open. He hadn’t seen anything. Had Steve gotten hurt on his watch after all? Normally he wouldn’t panic, but Steve had been hit with something he was only just now coming out of. What if his healing had slowed down too?

“What?” Steve looked at Tony with a frown, then followed everyone’s gazes to where bright, still wet blood was staining the blue and white parts of his uniform and he reached down, swiping his hand over it. “It’s not mine.”

“Then where – “ Nat started, before whirling to face Clint, hurrying to his side.

He tried to wave her off. “I’m fine, Nat,” he said, his voice coming out slurred and wobbly. He frowned and blinked, then listed a little to the side before he caught himself on the arm of the seat. His next blink was a little slower, took a little longer to open his eyes again and then the pain settled in as the last of the adrenaline swept away. He grimaced, hand going down to his side and when he took it away again, it was covered in blood.

“Okay, ‘m a li’l bit hurt, but ‘s all goo’. I’ll be… be fin’…” And then Clint began to worry, because it had taken way too much effort to get those words out, darkness dragging at Clint…

“Clint!” he thought he heard Steve shout.

Aww… it was nice that Steve still cared, even if Clint had been stupid enough to fall in love where it wasn’t wanted…

… then everything went black.


	6. Overdue Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wakes up to two very worried Super Soldiers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought i'd put this one up just as quick as the last one, since, y'know, cliffhanger (EVEN THOUGH I ASSURED YOU ALL IT"D BE OKAY! I don't think some of you believed me though lol)
> 
> Don't forget that Marvel Trumps Hate ends tonight.
> 
> P.S.  
Trigger Warning - Suicide - Very Brief thought by clint of suicide but not like actively looking for it or anything it's really quick right in the beginning

**Chapter 6**

Clint was actually maybe a little bit disappointed when he woke up. Not that he was actively trying to kill himself, okay, but… sometimes he wondered if it would just be easier.

That… was probably a concerning thought, one he didn’t plan to dwell on anytime soon. Maybe Fury had been right to recommend a therapist.

Maaaaaybe he should have actually _gone_.

He shifted carefully, checking for broken bones. His body felt heavy, his head pounded and the beeping of the machines was muted in that way that meant he wasn’t wearing his aids – he wasn’t _all _deaf, just mostly deaf and some sounds carried a little better than others (heart machines and various other medical devices, by their very nature, were _meant t_o carry) - but everything moved, so not as bad as it could have been.

Grimacing, he finally blinked open his eyes, blearily looking around for that funky water bottle all hospitals – even Stark Tower Med Wings – seemed to have.

There was a flash of movement, and the very cup was looking for was being lifted into his view by strong, familiar hands. He dragged his eyes up to look at Steve’s pale face, worry written over every inch.

“Steve?” Clint croaked, wincing at how dry and raspy his throat felt, though he couldn’t hear his own voice. Steve shook his head, his lips pursed tightly together and he urged the cup forward till the straw gently tapped Clint’s own dry lips. He licked them then tilted just enough to suck the water out through the straw. He took several long sips, trying to avoid the inevitable, but there was only so long you could nurse a bottle of water, no matter how dry your throat was.

He dropped his head back into the pillow, his eyes flicking around and finally catching Bucky asleep in a chair, looking haggard as fuck.

Wait… the fight. They’d been subjected to something – taken down by some unknown substance. Who knew what it had done to them, what the side effects were –

Wild eyed, Clint looked from Bucky to Steve with panic rising in his chest. “What happened? Are you guys okay?” Clint asked, struggling to sit up. Glaring at Clint, Steve’s other arm came up and pushed Clint back down without even trying.

That was both depressing and hot and god, Clint was so fucking screwed, but Steve hadn’t answered him and Bucky hadn’t even budged an inch when Clint knew – he _knew _how sensitive Bucky’s ears were, how hard it was for him to sleep sometimes. “Steve! What’s wrong? Are you and Bucky okay?”

Clint didn’t know how loud he was getting, but it must have been loud because an instant later Bucky had joined Steve, an anxious look on his face, and Clint’s aids in his hand as he nudged Steve out of the way.

Bucky gestured with his hands towards Clint’s ears and Clint was so relieved to see Bucky up and moving about that he just nodded dumbfoundedly as he let Bucky put his hearing aids in. The world filtered back in, all too much, all at once, and Clint winced, squeezing his eyes shut.

This wasn’t helping his headache any.

“Clint, how’re you feelin’, doll?” Bucky’s voice was soft and Clint choked on… on something, he wasn’t even sure. A sob, a laugh. Hands took both of his after a short shuffle and he cracked his eyes back open, and fuck, were those tears?

“Baby, you’re scaring us, a bit,” Steve said, his other hand coming up to finish covering Clint’s right hand and rubbing at it.

“I…” Clint started, then stopped, shook his head. They were using their pet names again but that wasn’t important right now. “You’re kinda scaring me too. What happened? Are you both all right? Why won’t you answer me?”

Steve looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, but I didn’t answer because I don’t know much more than the basics yet, but we’re good, promise.”

“Basics?” Clint said, his mind crawling too slowly for his liking, even as relief filled him from Steve’s reassurance.

“Sign, doll,” Bucky said. “Me an’ Stevie’d been taking classes. Were gonna show you when… but then you left us.”

“_Why?”_ Clint asked, eyes stinging again.

Letting go of Clint with one hand, Steve blindly reached behind him to drag his chair closer, than sat, leaning his elbows on the bed and taking up Clint’s hand with both his once more. “We noticed you wouldn’t take your aids off, even when you slept, and we didn’t want to push, but we figured it was because we’d have no way to talk with you when you did. So, we thought we’d make sure we could. It can’t be good to wear those all the time. Even the coms hurt _my _ears if I wear them too long.”

Clint blinked at Steve in confusion, then turned to the other side of the bed where Bucky now stood so he could hold onto Clint without making either of them reach too far.

“What?”

“We did it for _you, _doll,” Bucky said. “You know we’re crazy about you, right?”

Clint stared, mouth gaping open.

“I don’t think he _does, _Buck,” Steve’s voice was a resigned whisper, as if Clint’s silence had just confirmed something he’d been hoping he was wrong about. “Jesus, babe. What do we have to say to convince you that we want this, want you? That you complete us?’

“But… you can’t,” Clint said weakly. “I’m nothin’ special and everyone leaves. Look, I get it. I can’t even compare to you two – “

“Stop that,” Steve growled, making Clint’s heart skip a beat. He watched in horror as a tear rolled down Steve’s face. “God, Clint… How can you believe that?”

His gut curled. He’d made Captain America cry.

“I’m sorry,” Clint whispered. “But it’s the truth.”

“No, it ain’t, doll. You’re nothin’ special?” Bucky scoffed. “Ain’t special, my ass. Yer a better marksman than me, y’know? You can’t compare to two super soldiers? Who said you need to? I already got a Stevie, I don’t want another one, even if you and Steve are more alike in some ways than I expected. Don’t matter none, cause you’re _you_, not _him.”_

Bucky squeezed Clint’s hand with his right while his left came up to run through Clint’s short hair. “You don’t need to be him, or anybody else.”

“And beyond all that, your humor, your compassion, your understanding – it knows no bounds. I know we don’t know a lot about your past, but we know enough to know that it wasn’t pretty and you’re still one of the most selfless, kindest people we know, and we _both _admire you for that,” Steve said. “So many people out there are jaded beyond all that I knew was possible. But you still have a zest for life that’s… it’s contagious.”

“Makes us want to believe in the world again,” Bucky said. “You make us better people.”

Clint couldn’t stop staring, his head pinballing from one to the other as they talked. The words were heartfelt, earnest. They were all things Steve and Bucky had been telling him for _months _even but hadn’t let himself believe.

“But…” Clint whispered. There was evidence, wasn’t there?

“Look, if you’re still hung up on not being a super soldier, just know that I loved Stevie when he was an 80 pound asthmatic – “

“I wasn’t 80 pounds,” Steve protested.

Bucky glared. “An 80 pound asthmatic who didn’t know how to quit. It wasn’t his looks or his abilities that I fell in love with – all that came much, _much_ later. I fell in love with the goddamn attitude, in the heart that he wore on his fucking sleeve.”

“And for the record, being a super soldier almost got us killed on our last mission,” Steve pointed out.

Clint jolted. “But you’re all right, right?”

“Yeah, doll, we’re all right. Thanks to you and Nat,” Bucky said.

“And even Natasha says she couldn’t have held off till Tony got there if you hadn’t stepped in. You undersell yourself, Clint,” Steve said. “It takes all kind of people to make a world go ‘round; we all have different strengths and we are _all of us _worthy.”

“Does that mean I can pick up Thor’s hammer?” Clint joked weakly.

“You can try,” Bucky said. “But I’m pretty sure his hammer’s working off a different definition of the word.”

“Why did you leave us, Clint? What made you believe we didn’t want you?” Steve asked.

Clint blushed. “It’s stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid if it’s bothering you.”

Sighing, Clint closed his eyes. “It just felt like, outside the bedroom, you didn’t have room for me.”

Bucky gave Steve an _I told you so_ look if Clint had ever seen one while Steve rolled his eyes and muttered, “Shut up, punk.”

“It wasn’t on purpose, Clint. We… remember what we said? We’re so used to hiding that it… it became a habit. It didn’t even occur to us that…” Steve shook his head. “Well, no, I think Bucky picked up on it, figured it out, but it was too late, you’d already left us.”

“Please, don’t do that again,” Bucky said. “If you really don’t wanna be with us, that’s one thing, we won’t force it. You know we never would. But if you think it’s cause _we _don’t wanna be with _you_… just, talk to us first, please, doll?” Bucky’s voice cracked.

“I’m sorry, I’m…” Clint shook his head and gave a little, disparaging laugh. “I mean, I got issues. I know I do. Trust issues and… I’m just… I’m _broken_. I can’t promise I won’t freak out again.”

“We’re broken too,” Steve said. “But we’re broken _together_, our jagged pieces fitting in a way I never imagined. And we can work on this, on us, _together. _I think, with the two of you by my side, I could learn how to heal.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, what he said.”

Clint laughed wetly, his eyes leaking once more, but a smile was breaking out over his face, so wide it hurt. “Okay, okay, I get it. I won’t run away from this, from _us_, again.”

The matching grins of relief on both Steve and Bucky’s faces made Clint’s chest tighten in both wonder and trepidation. Did he really have that much power over them that their moods directly reflected his? It was both scary and reassuring.

That, more than anything, proved the truth of their words.

“Now, unless there’s something you _haven’t _told me about how one of us is doing, I’d really like to cuddle with one of you. Ideally, both of you, but I don’t think this bed will let us. God, but I’ve missed you,” Clint admitted softly.

“We’ve missed our little hawk too,” Steve said. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Clint’s for a slow, soft kiss. “Bucky can go first. He needs the sleep. That stuff hit him harder than it did me. He’s fine,” Steve was quick to assure. “But he’s exhausted.”

Bucky gave Steve a glare of betrayal, but didn’t deny it as he climbed carefully into Clint’s bed, Steve helping Clint shift and get comfortable. Bucky curled around Clint like an octopus and Clint melted into the embrace. Fingers touched the lobe of his ears tentatively, giving them a light tug. When he looked at Bucky, Bucky raised his eyebrows in question.

Clint closed his hands over Bucky’s, neither giving him permission, or pulling him away. “Wait, where’s Nat?”

He was actually surprised she _wasn’t _in here. She was his emergency contact, his only real family these days. Clint had had standing orders that only she be allowed to see him first thing, because of his ears, because of his secret.

Bucky laughed. “Nat, apparently, wasn’t worried. Said she’d seen worse – “ Steve made a mournful sound at that information but Bucky kept going, his eyes tracing over Clint’s face hungrily – not in the _I want sex_ way, but in the _I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again_ way. “So she shoved us in here with you and said if we three didn’t get our heads out of our asses, she’d kick our asses and remove our heads herself.”

“Bucky didn’t believe her, but I didn’t want to press our luck. Besides, we were worried and we _did _want to talk to you,” Steve said. “And at least this way, we knew you couldn’t get away.”

“That’s dirty,” Clint said with a rueful chuckle. “But fair enough.” He _had _been avoiding them, after all. And, it turned out, for nothing. what would have happened if he’d let them corner him sooner?

Bucky laughed. “That’s the Stevie I know. He learned a lot of dirty fighting cause he had to. And if that wasn’t enough, he had me.”

“But you’re all really okay? Nat and Tony too?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, doll, all of us. You were the worst hurt,” Bucky said softly, tapping their foreheads together. A third head tapped theirs, arms hugging them all close together till Clint went “Urk, Stevie, can’t breathe,” and the arms eased up.

Steve backed off, but not before pushing both Bucky and Clint’s hair back from their faces. “You two get some sleep, okay?”

Clint yawned and nodded, then let go of Bucky’s hand, swallowed and nodded again. Bucky reached for Clint’s ears, urging him to tilt up enough for him to get the other aid, then reached over Clint to hand them to Steve before he snuggled back down with Clint.

Bucky pulled Clint in, tucking Clint’s head under his chin despite being the smaller of the two, but Clint enjoyed it, enjoyed being wrapped up and cared for like this. He felt loved and safe, a hand – he wasn’t sure whose – stroking his head softly.

Before long, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable tumblr Post](https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/188608217241/its-not-porn-its-art-chapter-4)


	7. Not Just a Fever Dream...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Clint woke, he wasn't sure it hadn't all been some fever dream...

Clint drifted then, in and out as the pain meds wore off, but never quite waking up completely. Any time he woke, it was to warmth, to the rise and fall of a chest, to the vibrations of someone talking and it was just enough to realize he wasn’t alone and lull him back into much needed sleep. Once or twice he managed to open his eyes, to take in Bucky – all curled up around him, a hand running through his hair a reassuring smile on his lips and Clint would relax, let out a breath and his eyes would drag down once more.

Another time he woke, confusion settling in as the hospital bed rocked. It took him far too long to force his eyes open and they fell upon Steve, just settling in with him. Steve gathered Clint to him gently, his fingers seeming to tremble slightly as if worried about something, steadying only when Clint managed to shift and take Steve’s hand in his own and curl it against his chest. Steve’s eyes went wide with emotion but Clint’s eyes were already fluttering shut again.

All in all, they were both so caring and _there_ that it was a bigger shock than it should have been when he woke up alone in the bed, colder than he’d been.

Immediately, Clint thought the conversation and subsequent cuddling had all been a dream and tears stung his eyes at feeling of being rejected all over again. He shut them tight on a choking gasp he couldn’t hear and a hand clasped his shoulder and Clint shuddered, trying to pull himself together before opening his eyes.

He blinked them open warily, to find only Steve there. Steve smiled, handing him his water. While Clint sipped it, Steve tugged at his ears and pointed at Clint, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Clint croaked. “Lemme have ‘em.”

Steve handed over Clint’s hi tech Stark hearing aids, his hands hesitating like he wanted to offer to do it himself, but he let Clint take them and waited patiently while Clint put them in.

“How’re you feeling, babe?” Steve said, settling a hip on the bed and pulling a leg up behind him so he could twist and face Clint. He took Clint’s unoccupied hand and held it in both of his own and the warmth of it, the gentle strength of Steve’s hand steadied Clint.

Clint let out a breath. “Better.”

He bit his lip, hesitating, but there was one undeniable question he’d been dreading to ask since that first morning he’d woken up in their bed and realized they’d removed his aids while he’d slept. And if he hadn’t been dreaming last night – or whenever – Steve had said they were learning sign for him. They must have known for a while and yet…

“How long have you known?” Clint finally managed to squeeze out in a single, short breath, his chest a little tight.

Steve shrugged. “Not sure, actually. We didn’t realize right away, of course. At first, we thought they were mission coms, they look remarkably similar, then eventually, we realized you were wearing them in the tower too, but we thought maybe you were on call or something? You and Nat _were _spies for SHIELD once upon a time, after all, and they still call you in on occasion.”

Steve looked down, blushing – and oh, oh that was such a pretty sight – his hands squeezing Clint’s, his thumbs making slow circles over Clint’s skin. “Then when we were… intimate… and I noticed you were still wearing them, and Buck pointed out that not even Nat wore them around the tower and… a few more things made sense.”

“So, a while now,” Clint said, his stomach twisting. “How come you and Buck… how come you never _said_ anything? Never asked?”

“We thought about it,” Steve admitted. “But once we knew, we paid a little more attention and… seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t ask anyone else either, cause the more we watched you interact with the others, the more we came to understand… Only Nat and Tony know, don’t they?”

“For different reasons, but yeah. Nat because she’s Nat, she’s family and Tony cause… I needed his help,” Clint admitted. “But you’re right. I don’t like talking about it, didn’t want anyone to know. It’s… a weakness.”

“Is it?” Bucky asked from the door. Clint turned to see him there, looking a little less haggard than the last time he’d managed to open his eyes, but still more run down than Clint had seen in a long time. “Cause last time I checked, you were still an Avenger. You’re human and you more than hold your own on a team that is increasingly… not _quite_ human.”

“Very few people could do that, can do what you do,” Steve said earnestly, as if sensing something important. Knowing Steve’s keen mind, he was.

Clint frowned. “I never thought of it that way.”

Bucky came closer draping an arm around Steve’s shoulder and leaned heavily. “That first morning… your panic attack. It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?”

Looking away, Clint shook his head.

“It was because of us,” Steve said on a soft breath, not asking, but finally _knowing_. Clint closed his eyes, tugging his hand away from Steve, his breathing hitching some as emotions flowed up and over him. He knew he was a mess, and if they knew the panic attack had been because they’d touched his _ears_, because he considered that a more intimate act than anything else they’d done… what would they think?

Steve made a garbled sound before it cut off. “No, Clint, don’t pull away from us again, please. If you need some space, we’ll give it to you, but you _need _to talk to us,” Steve pleaded. “You need to help us know what we’re doing wrong.”

Clint’s eyes flew open and he turned his head back toward Steve and Bucky more fully, his mouth gaping. “Never, you’ve never – I’m just - I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m…” Clint took a long, deep breath, tried to regain control over his breathing.

“Hey, it’s okay. We get it. One measly little talk isn’t gonna miraculously solve anything,” Bucky said. He gave a small, wry smile. “Or so my therapist tells me.”

Barking out a short laugh, the tightness in Clint’s chest eased a little. “You gotta understand – my ears… it’s a sore spot for me. Maybe always will be. Even if you believe it changes nothing about me and what I can do, there are others that believe differently, who would treat me differently for it. I’ve worked hard for this, and I can’t lose it.” Clint took another steadying breath, both Bucky and Steve giving him one hundred percent of their attention.

“It’s been so long that… this… it’s become,” he blew out a breath, trying to find the right words.

“Take your time, doll,” Bucky said gently, giving him an encouraging smile. Clint took it gratefully and shot a weak smile back at him.

“Look, I know for most people with similar issues, they’re a hell of a lot better adjusted about it than I am, and I know that stems from shit from my childhood. Letting anyone near my ears, even letting anyone _know_ about them… it’s incredibly intimate for me, a level of trust I don’t just give _anyone_,” Clint said. “So that first morning…”

Steve had gone pale and Bucky had, somehow, gone even paler.

“We’re so sorry, Clint. If we had known we would cause you that level of distress –“

“We would never have touched them, if we had known – “

“It’s okay. It’s…” Clint reached out for them, shifting to sit up a little. “It was a… a very upsetting shock, I can’t deny that, so I won’t bother but… I’m feeling better about it now.” He smiled at them. “And I know that has a lot to do with it being the two of you. Because I trust you more than anyone except maybe Nat.”

Bucky snorted. “I’d take offense that Nat rates higher, but I get it.”

Steve shook his head, his smile rueful. “I should probably feel jealous over that, but I think I get it too.”

Clint let out a sigh of relief. Nat had been a sticking point once or twice in the few relationships he’d tried. To know that Bucky and Steve understood was a load off his mind.

Maybe this _could _work, after all? Maybe it wasn’t all just hopeful, pretty promises?

There was a light knock on the door and the three of them turned to find Nat standing there with a pleased, smug smile on her face.

“Glad to see you boys finally talking with each other,” she said, crossing the room. “How are you feeling, Yastreb?”

“Better,” Clint said, the word stronger than before. “Hungry as fuck, actually. How are you and Tony?”

She ruffled his hair. “You, hawk, were the only one actually injured, although this one-“ Nat poked Bucky in the ribs and he grunted, squirming away from her with a small glare – “had us worried for a little bit as well. Whatever they hit him with, hit him hard.”

“You said you were okay!” Clint said plaintively, looking Bucky back over with a critical eye.

“I am!” Bucky protested.

Nat rolled her eyes. “Men,” she muttered. “He’s supposed to be in his own bed, in his own room, so they could monitor the effects of the substance he was hit with – it’s already cleared out of Steve’s system completely –“ at that, Steve had the common courtesy to look a little sheepish, but Nat didn’t even slow down as she glared at Bucky – “but he’s been too stubborn to leave your side.”

“I’m just tired, Nat,” Bucky protested. “There was no way I was going to rest anywhere else but here.”

“It’s true,” Steve confirmed with a nod. “I’ve experienced it first hand enough times to know.”

Clint just stared at Bucky. Before he could stop himself, Clint’s mouth opened and he blurted, “God I love you. I think I love you both more than _coffee.”_

Silence descended on the room and Clint groaned, closing his eyes and covering his hot face. “Oh fuck, can we pretend I didn’t just say that?”

The bed moved, hands came up around his and gently pried them away, and when Clint looked out apprehensively, his stomach twirling around in hopeful knots, both super soldiers had somehow crawled onto the tiny hospital bed with ecstatic grins on their faces.

“Not gonna forget that, doll,” Bucky said with glee.

“You don’t know how_ long_ we’ve been waiting to hear that,” Steve said, his heart shining in his eyes. Literal heart eyes. Of_ course_ Captain America had heart eyes. Watery heart eyes. Oh god, was Steve so happy he could actually cry? And _Clint _had done that? “Jesus, babe… I love you too.”

“We both do,” Bucky added, nudging a little closer.

Somehow, within a bare few moments, Clint had a super soldier on either side of him, their legs tangled together over his, over the blanket he was trapped under, their hands clasped over his chest. Bucky was nuzzling into Clint’s neck, pressing soft kisses and whispering happy words of endearment while Steve caught Clint’s lips in a gentle glide.

Clint sighed into the kiss and curled his hands around each of their waists and arched his neck of Bucky. It wasn’t arousing but it was pleasant, filled with happiness and contentment and Clint allowed himself to bask in it. Clint was able, for once, to _easily_ push away the thought that this had an expiration date.

And that was progress in and of itself worth rejoicing in, but he was too busy loving the moment he was in.

He barely even heard when Tony came in.

“Oh great. Does this mean I’m gonna have to invest in bigger _hospital _beds?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because nothing is solved in just one talk, but it's a start. a good, solid start.
> 
> This should be wrapping up soon. I'm estimating one or two more chapters total.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't stop drawing his boyfriends in intimate positions and Bucky's a goddamnned tease. But Clint's not complaining, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it, that's all she (me) wrote. i have other projects in various stages of completion in the works and hopefully will be posting them soon(ish)
> 
> also, yes, there are two bonus scenes at the end of this, that actually kinda grew out of control. but, well, sometimes that happens.
> 
> also also, i've managed to circle it back around to the title of this fic. chapter 2, of course, was where the initial nod to the title came from - Which was SUPPOSED to have happened in chapter one but this was ALSO not supposed to be longer than one chapter so... well. there ya go.

Clint’s fingers tightened in the hair at the base of Bucky’s neck, tangling in the loose bits not tugged back into a messy bun. His body trembled with the effort to stay still with Bucky’s mouth on his cock.

“Steve,” he whined.

“Stay still, babe. I’m almost done,” Steve said, the scritch of his charcoal sweeping over his paper a counterpoint to his voice. Despite the admonishment, Clint groaned when Bucky’s mouth tightened slightly, when his tongue teased Clint, moving where Steve couldn’t see.

Bucky was laid out above Clint on his hands and knees, a perfect black handprint on his ass from testing Steve’s words. The rest of their naked bodies held myriad smudges of black as Steve had pushed and pulled and urged them together from one position to the next as he drew, keeping them both on edge.

Clint hissed and curled his fingers tighter at the nape of Bucky’s neck as Bucky caught his eyes and very, very deliberately, laved his tongue along the head of Clint’s cock, dipping down as much as he could without moving his head before sliding it back up and playing with the sensitive tip.

“God, I think you’re tryin’ to kill me…” Clint moaned. Bucky sucked harder, a challenge in his eyes, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth but never fully forming – it would break Steve’s carefully planned scene. Speaking of - “Steve, he’s _cheating_.”

“What’d I tell ya, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky grunted at the loud slap on his ass, using the push as an excuse to suck Clint down a little deeper. Clint just stared down at him in disbelief, his cock throbbing almost painfully. _Why that little…_

Taking in a breath, Clint flexed his fingers in Bucky’s hair, against his neck, giving small, sharp pulls that Steve wouldn’t see but made Bucky’s eyes roll up as he hummed a moan around Clint. The vibration had Clint gasping. _Oh fuck, **that** backfired, big time._

“Sirs, your guests are arriving…” JARVIS interrupted. There was the faintest note of apology in his voice and Clint whimpered.

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Steve said calmly, standing to put his things away. He walked forward, trailing a charcoal stained hand up Bucky’s spine till he found Clint’s fingers. Steve’s fingers curled around Clint’s, stroking them lightly. “All right, you two have five minutes before I come looking for you. But remember to be quiet – I’m sure our friends don’t need to know _exactly _what you’re getting up to in here.”

Clint looked up at Steve. “Wait, you’re not – “

“Later, babe,” Steve said softly, leaning forward to kiss Clint’s temple. “I’m not the one who’s been on edge for over an hour. You two can take me apart after the party, get your revenge.”

“Captain Rogers?” JARVIS interrupted again. “Your guests are getting… antsy.”

“Tell them I’ll be right there, J,” Steve called loudly. He trailed his other hand against Clint’s throat, then pulled away, speaking softer. “Remember, five minutes and no sound.”

Steve left the room, the door closing with a quiet snick. The sound was like a signal, the loud shot of a starting gun and Bucky swallowed Clint down, nose buried in the hair at the base of Clint’s cock. Clint shouted at the sudden wetness, the pressure of Bucky’s mouth, hips jerking upward.

Raising one hand to his mouth, Clint bit down, muffling his moans as Bucky bobbed up and down on his dick, Bucky’s fingers digging into Clint’s thighs. Rate Bucky was going and how long Clint had been holding back, Clint wasn’t gonna need 5 minutes.

Bucky’s lips moved over Clint in the most sinful manner, alternating pressures as he went up and down, pausing to tease the head of his cock before pushing back down, urging Clint to move, to fuck Bucky’s face.

Clint was breathing hard around his hand, the other pulling so hard that Bucky’s hair came loose.

It was the silky touch of Bucky’s hair against his hot skin, sliding and pooling around his groin as Bucky took him deep, that pushed Clint over the edge. He came hard, jerking in stuttered thrusts into Bucky’s mouth, a whine leaking out around the hand in his mouth.

Maybe he should be embarrassed, but he was too blissed out to care.

Bucky swallowed the last drop, sliding off Clint’s cock with a wet pop before crawling back up the length of Clint’s body, easing Clint’s hand out of his mouth.

“Jesus, doll,” Bucky said, his voice rough but his fingers gentle as he turned Clint’s hand around to see the clear bite mark. “Any deeper, you’d have drawn blood.”

Clint shrugged sheepishly. “Might have been havin’ a bit of a problem stayin’ quiet,” he said. “C’mon.” Clint snaked his other hand between them, grasping Bucky’s still hard cock. “Don’t think we’ve got much time left.”

Bucky, it turned out, didn’t need much more encouragement then that. He straddled Clint’s legs, cradling Clint’s face in both hand as he kissed Clint desperately while Clint’s hand pumped along Bucky’s thick cock, Bucky rocking up into his hand needily. Clint’s other hand was back in Bucky’s hair, giving it slightly harsher tugs than before and soon Bucky was spilling over Clint’s stomach and slumping over, burying his face in Clint’s neck.

Clint marveled at the fact that just a few months ago, that would have sent him spiraling into a panic, at having Bucky or anyone that close to his ears, but as their harsh breathing settled and he carded his fingers softly through Bucky’s hair, he was content.

“We’re gonna get him back for this,” Bucky said finally as they pulled away from each other to clean up and get dressed. “You in for some sweet, sweet torture of one Steve Rogers?”

“You know I am,” Clint said with a grin.

Bucky laughed and stood, helping Clint up. Before long, they were decent enough to join Steve and the others in the living room. Thor, Nat, Tony, Sam, Rhodey and Pepper had all joined them. Tony was busy in the kitchen, serving drinks. Sam had cornered Steve about something. Rhodey and Thor were exchanging stories while Nat and Pepper were taking a turn about the room, staring at the décor.

Then they stopped in front of one in particular and Clint flushed when he realized what they were looking at. He’d argued with Steve about putting _those _up on the wall but Steve had convinced him that it would be fine.

It was their own private space, anyway, so if someone had a problem with the nature of the art, they could leave. Then again, the really risqué pictures never made it out into the areas they were most likely to entertain.

Thank god.

Clint may be an ex-carnie with no true sense of boundaries or shame other than what his ears had forced upon him, but there was something in the art, something Steve somehow always caught, that left Clint feeling way more exposed than just being naked did – and he’d done that plenty, much to everyone else’s dismay.

Bucky gave Clint’s waist a squeeze, leaned over to kiss his neck before going over to join Steve and Sam, likely to give Sam shit about whatever Bucky could find. It was a strange friendship, but a good one none-the-less.

That left Clint alone and he found himself gravitating towards Nat and Pepper as they stood before what was probably Clint’s favorite picture.

It was a rare one, with all three of them together. They’d had to enlist JARVIS’s help to get a snap that Steve wanted to use, but he’d been adamant in having something with all of them together. Clint remembered the day clearly.

They had been 100 percent, gloriously naked and covered in semen, lube and the ever-present art supplies. They’d been tangled together, exchanging languid kisses and uncaring of the mess between them and that’s when JARVIS had snapped the picture.

Truthfully, JARVIS had probably snapped a gazillion, but he’d winnowed it down before sending them to Steve and then Steve had further narrowed it down before letting Bucky and Clint decide.

Then Steve had gotten to work.

Steve had artfully cropped it in on their faces before sketching it, the bare hint of naked shoulders and chest. It was obvious it was post coital, the bliss and contentment on their faces was all too clear – the love that shone in their very beings, hands curling, fingers peaking out of long hair or the cup of a jaw.

It was beautiful as a photo but it was absolutely breathtaking after Steve had gotten his hands on it, and whenever Clint felt low, whenever a niggling doubt entered his mind, he’d come back and he’d stare at this, at them.

And then _they’d _come, and they’d wrap themselves around him, pull him back to bed, or to the couch, putting on Dog Cops, or the Great British Bakeoff or some documentary. Sometimes it ended in sex, but most times it didn’t.

But most importantly, as Clint worked on his own issues, Steve and Bucky had been teaching themselves new habits. As if to illustrate that point, hands slid around him and a chin tucked over his shoulder. Clint could smell Steve and he couldn’t help but lean back into those strong arms.

This, them, publicly touching each other and him – it had been a long road for them as well. The first few times, the touches had been far more hesitant, punctuated by brief looks of panic as they glanced warily about the room.

But now it was second nature to them and it had gone a long way towards making Clint feel wanted, having them lay claim to him as publicly as they did each other.

He covered Steve’s hands with his own and Nat smiled at them.

“I’m so glad the three of you are happy,” she said. “You deserve this. All of you.”

Bucky reappeared at Clint and Steve’s side as they swayed together lightly on their feet. Bucky smiled at them before turning to Nat. “We couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Yes, you would have. It just would have taken you stubborn fools longer and a lot more tears and a few knocked heads.” She patted Bucky’s cheek. “But in the end, it was you boys who worked for this. Be proud of it, of yourselves.”

They smiled back at her. Clint _did _feel proud, actually. And happy as all fuck. He reached a hand out for Bucky, wanting contact with both of his boyfriends. They clasped their hands together and grinned.

“So, who knew Captain America drew porn, right?” Tony said, appearing suddenly before them as he studied the picture.

Steve sighed, detaching himself from Clint, though he didn’t go too far.

“Tony, I’ve told you before, it’s not porn…”

The rest of his words faded off into a familiar spiel and Clint just let it wash over him, even as more and more of their friends joined them in a semi-circle around the very picture in question and joining the good-natured debate of which Clint only caught the barest snippets of.

“ – there isn’t even any naughty bits, Tones –“

“ – the line between art and porn is highly debated in many circles – “

“You really don't mind,” Bucky asked softly while the others talked, “that he draws us like that?”

“God, no. I love it. I love seeing how he sees us, how he, “ Clint swallowed. “how he sees me. It makes me wish I had a single artistic bone in my body, so I could show you both how _I_ see _you.”_

Bucky grinned down at him, wrapping an arm around Clint’s shoulder. Despite all the noise from everyone talking – which was, incidentally, overwhelming Clint’s poor aids - Steve turned to shoot a relieved smile their way though he didn't break from the current discussion.

Damn super soldier hearing.

Then again, that could work to his advantage. Clint grinned evilly, still talking softly. “Of course, it's all fun and games till I pop a boner in the art store."

Bucky stared at him before he doubled over laughing. Thor was thumping Steve’s back with concern as Steve choked on absolutely nothing and tried to wave him off.

Yeah, Clint was so gone on these guys, and it was so fucking amazing that thought wasn’t anywhere _near _as scary as it had once been.

* * *

**Bonus Scene #1**

Clint cradled the large mug of coffee in his hands and beamed at Bucky sleepily. “Mmm… mornin’ Shnookums.”

Steve and Bucky turned to face him incredulously. “What?”

“What? Don’t like Shnookums? How about Honey bear? Oh, oh, oh! Bucky Bear!” Clint grinned. “And I can call Steve sweetums. Or maybe –“

“I love you, doll, but I’m gonna kill you,” Bucky said with his best murder glare.

“Awww, don't be like that, cupcake,” Clint said, pouting just a little bit. “It’s just, everyone has pet names for _everyone, _except me for you and Steve and I want something special to call you too. I'm just trying to find the right fit.”

Bucky deflated and Steve turned away from the stove, beaming. “That’s swell, babe. But take your time. You’ll know when the right one comes a long.”

Clint sipped his coffee in silence as he thought it through, Steve bringing bacon from the stove – and just bacon. The combination smell of bacon and coffee was pure heaven and Clint breathed in deeply before diving in.

With his mouth full, Clint broke the silence, “Oh, hey, how about cuddly wuddly or sugar bear?”

Steve and Bucky both froze – Steve with his hands around his own mug of coffee, half raised to his lips, Bucky with bacon hanging out of his mouth.

“Honey pie? Honey _muffin? _Baby doll? Baby cakes? Hot stuff? Cutie patootie? Pudding? Angel? Poopsie? Sweet cheeks? Sugar lips? C’mon guys, throw me a bone here!”

Steve groaned and closed his eyes. “Never mind, Buck. I'll help.”

* * *

**Bonus Scene # 2:**

A few nights later, Steve came back late enough from a mission debrief that Bucky and Clint were already half asleep, curled together on the bed. Clint’s eyes popped open sleepily when the bed dipped and Steve paused, signing to Clint to go back to sleep.

“I will when you join us, sunshine,” Clint hummed softly with a smile. Steve’s face wrinkled up into a pleased grin.

“I like that one,” Steve said, first making sure Clint could see his lips in the dim light of the room – that was something they’d learned the hard way, the necessity of some sort of light at night when one of them inevitably had a nightmare - before talking, slipping under the covers and draping an arm over Clint’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” Clint asked, his dopey smile widening before he yawned. “Awesome.”

“Did Buck get one yet?” Steve couldn’t help but ask, his fingers skating over the hand he’d found resting over Clint already. The fingers twitched and slotted with Steves. Clint didn’t answer and Steve noticed his eyes had closed again.

“Yes, he did,” Bucky mumbled into Clint’s back, but Steve caught the words. “He started calling me sweetheart when we were stumbling through a shower together.”

Steve rubbed his thumb into Bucky’s hand. “I like that one too,” Steve said approvingly.

“Yeah, think we’re rubbin’ off on him though. It’s a little more old fashioned than kids these days seem to use.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Steve asked. “You ever wish…”

“Wish what, Stevie?” Bucky prodded, raising his head a little to peer at Steve with concern.

“That I called you somethin’ else, somethin’ special, rather than plain ol’ Buck?”

“Nah, nothin’ plain about me –“ Steve chuckled and shook his head. It had taken a long time for Bucky to regain that old bravado. Not that he was the same person he’d been before, but that was okay. Neither was Steve. “- and it _is _special. Don’t go changin’ that for no good reason,” Bucky said with a smile, lifting their joined hands to place a kiss on Steve’s knuckles.

“Sleep now, knuckleheads,” Clint mumbled around a jaw breaking yawn, tilting his face into Steve’s chest.

Bucky snorted, settling back. “And just like that, we’ve been downgraded.”

Steve just shook his head and mirrored Bucky on Clint’s other side. It was Clint’s favorite place to be, between Steve and Bucky and neither of them wanted to argue that in the slightest.

Over seventy years in the future, with everyone they’d known and loved long since dead and gone, so much change around them, so much lost but this_, _here with Clint,_ this_ was _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way! I have recently realized that i never came back and linked the prequel to this fic here!!! OH NO!  
[ We Can Do This All Day... ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636472/chapters/51592867)


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